


CB One Shots

by jsymo



Series: Cursed Blessings [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adorable, Clowns, Daddy!Cas, Daddy!Sam, Dean is so flippin cute, Deanmon Behavior, Diapers, Domestic Fluff, Fireworks, Fluff, Fourth of July, Grumpy Dean, Holiday, I did that tag twice, Infantilism, M/M, Manipulative Toddlers, Potty-training, Sickness, Sorry Not Sorry, TMNT Underwear, additional tags to follow, baby!dean - Freeform, bottles, grumpy!dean, wee!Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:10:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4159941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsymo/pseuds/jsymo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the continuation from the original story I was talking about. This story will have multiple chapters. Not be in chronological order. And be driven by prompts along with my imagination! So if you have a suggestion on a one shot that I should do, please drop me a line! This story will be tons of fun and full of cute. So I hope you enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chicken Broth and Diapers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deadmockingbirds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deadmockingbirds/gifts).



> Dean and Cas are down for the count. Thanks to a nasty little bug.

Sam spooned up some chicken broth into a bottle. It was pure luck that he and his sentimental husband had yet to part from some of Dean's baby paraphernalia, as it was coming in handy at the moment. 

He tightened the lid and shook it up a little bit before turning off the burner on the stove. 

His and Cas' little boy was suffering from a bought of the flu that he had picked up from preschool. 

Their little babe was pale and fevered. His tummy was rumbling and upset and would throw up anything that Dean put in it. Sam was worried that Dean would become dehydrated if he didn't keep something in him, but Dean was so tired that Sam couldn't get the boy to drink from a regular glass or to accept countless spoons of broth. 

Thus the bottle.

Dean hadn't been to keen on his Daddy's improvisation, his response being, "not a baby Daddy."

But Sam had come back with, "you'll always be my baby sweetheart," and the four year old had relented and accepted the bottle the first time without too much additional fussing.

He crept upstairs quietly and peered into the bathroom where he had left the little boy. 

Dean was only wearing his shirt. A small adult shirt that had a TMNT motif on it which fit the boy like a dress. His diaper was puddled in front of the toilet – which he was straddled on – and his old stuffie Raphael was wedged between Dean's stomach and the toilet tank. 

The little boy's arms were snuggled about Raphael and holding the toy to his stomach in a way to make him feel better. 

Dean was in a half-sleep with his head resting on the back of the tank, and Sam paused in the doorway to assess his sweet little boy. 

He'd been dealing with waves of nausea and diarrhea and it had sucked the energy out of him. 

Sam dropped the bottle off on the counter and slipped into Dean's room to pull one of the boy's many blankets off of his bed. 

He came back to the bathroom and draped the blanket on the counter before slipping his arms around his babe. He made sure to include Raphael as he pulled Dean up, and paused to run a precautionary bundle of toilet paper between the boy’s legs before he snuggled his sweetheart in the blanket. 

Dean rustled a little as Sam practically swaddled the four year old, capturing his arms in the blanket. 

Sam hefted Dean up onto his hip and grabbed the bottle as he walked toward his and Cas' bedroom. 

"Daddee?" Dean roused enough to slur.

"Yeah sweetheart?"

"M'tired," he whined. 

"I know honey," Sam swept his hand through Dean's sweaty locks. "Daddy is going to lay you down with Papa for a bit, and I've got some broth for you, okay?"

"Okay."

Dean's sweet little voice sounds so tired and wobbly, and Sam feels his heart break for the little boy.

It's never easy to see your baby be sick, but ever since Dean's hospital stay as an infant Sam and Cas have had an exceptionally difficult time whenever Dean was suffering from anything more serious than a hangnail. 

He walked into the master bedroom where Cas was placidly watching TV. Cas had come down with the flu about the same time as Dean, so Sam was taking care of two boys. 

Cas was watching a movie on TV. It looked like one of the earlier Harry Potters so he carried his sleepy bundle over to the free side of the bed and crawled on. 

He sat against the headboard and pulled Dean to his chest. Dean naturally snuggled against him as Sam reached to grab the loose ends of Dean's blanket to flip onto his lap. 

"How you feelin sweetie?" Papa asked from his own personal burrow. 

Dean's answer was a wine, so Sam pulled Dean a little closer to press his chin against Dean's forehead. His temperature was down from yesterday, but he was still pretty warm.

"He's tired. Gonna feed him some broth."

Cas hummed in response and let his head flop back to the side as he went back to his movie. 

"Can you drink some broth for Daddy?" Sam asked as he placed the bottle in Dean's line of sight. 

"Yeah."

Feeding Dean a bottle at four was different than it had been went Dean was younger. Instead of watching Dean's eyes and nuzzling the little boy like he used to Sam was holding the bottle up like the water tubes he'd seen attached to the side of hamster cages. 

Dean allowed Sam to pop the nipple into his mouth and he held onto the bottle as he occasionally drank or clenched his teeth on the rubber teat. 

Sam would've asked Dean to stop his chewing, but figured the small boy was smart enough to not swallow anything that ended up in his mouth. 

Half-way through the movie Dean finished the bottle of broth, and if Sam needed more confirmation that his baby wasn't feeling well then it came when Dean snuggled and turned towards him and away from the TV. 

Sam shared a look with Cas, and Dean's older father thoughtfully turned the volume down on the movie. 

Dean had been sleeping in fits for the last thirty-six hours. Their little boy was too uncomfortable and sore to sleep well. 

Sam scritched his fingers gently over Dean's scalp and hummed one of Dean's favorite songs. He was hoping to get Dean asleep for a few hours, and thought he had succeeded in getting the little boy off to sleep when Dean spoke up.

"Ahdee?"

"Yes sweetheart?" 

His sweet boy was so obviously tired, but couldn't fall asleep.

"You sing Jude, pease."

His poor, tired little boy. He had been humming another of Dean's favorites from Blue Oyster Cult, and chastised himself for not remembering Dean's go-to "sick" song. 

"Of course I can."

Sam didn't sing, he hummed. The sound came out much better than if he tried to sing with his tone deaf ears. 

Sam hummed to his boy and tried to soothe him as best as he could. He felt like every other parent during this time; he's done everything he could to keep Dean comfortable, but it doesn't feel like enough. He wants nothing more than to trade places with his little boy, but Sam lucked out with good genes and a great immune system. It isn't often that he gets sick. 

A few minutes pass with Sam absently humming, watching the movie on TV as he carded his hand through Dean's hair. 

He waits until a commercial to shift Dean onto the bed. The little boy is out cold - finally - and he's able to peel back Dean's layers to get to his naked little legs. 

Sam grabs a diaper off the pile that he has set out on his dresser and pulls it up Dean's limp form. Four is kind of old for diapers - Sam knows - but Dean doesn't seem ready for potty-training yet. 

Diaper secure Sam wraps Dean back up and places him under the covers with his Papa. 

Sam leaves his two boys alone and goes about the master bedroom to quietly clean up. Garbage, drink containers, soiled clothes and towels, he gathers them all in an empty laundry basket to haul downstairs. 

Once the bedroom is clean Sam takes the time to clean both bathrooms upstairs. They both smell like stomach bile and he figures the smell of the lemon-scented cleaner will help his boys feel better the next time they have an untimely visit to the toilet.

After that's all done Sam heats up a pan of tomato soup with a small handful of rice. It’s a recipe Dean shared with them, he said that "Mama made it," and seeing as he was two at the time Sam and Cas put it together that Dean was talking about his biological Mother.

The soup became a staple during winter and times of illness in the Wesson household. 

*****

Sam had about an hour of rest before he hears Cas calling for him. 

"Sam! Code Red!"

He throws down the book he's reading in the living room - silently grateful for the fact that Cas stopped calling it code brown when Dean had decided to repeat the phrase while in church - and runs upstairs to their bedroom where he hears Dean howling.

Cas, loopy and still sick in his own right, is holding their boy while trying to contain the mess that has been involuntarily made. 

"Blow out?"

"Blow out."

Sam's face scrunches in displeasure.

Anyone who has had kids is familiar with the inevitable occurrence that happens when a diaper just isn't enough to contain all the .... poo.

Sam sighs and grabs the Dean bundle. 

"I got him."

"You sure?"

"I can handle him, but not you if you start throwing up."

Cas looked positively green, and Sam wasn't about to clean up poop and vomit.

He didn't know why it was, but Sam could handle anything and everything that came out of their son, but Cas was on his own. 

Sam ignored Dean's howling in favor of taking him to their bathroom. 

He set Dean on the lip of the tub and unwrapped the dirty little boy, Dean sobbing at a high pitch the whole time.

"You're okay Dean, it's all okay," Sam runs his hand through Dean's hair, pushing it away from his forehead to press a kiss to the sweaty skin. 

When he gets to the last layer Sam hits the smell. It’s awful - naturally - but it doesn't bother Sam much anymore. 

Sam stands their boy up and pries the turtle from his arms for safe keeping on the counter where it will stay clean. Next to go is his shirt, Sam starts at the front and takes it off carefully to be sure that nothing spreads and smears. 

After that it’s the diaper. Sam can tell it's full, and Dean's little face is soaked with tears. 

"Daddy will make a bath for you okay?"

"Oh-oh-okay." 

Dean's hands are holding onto his little elbows and he's shivering as he stands in the middle of the bathroom while Sam prepares a bath. The messy diaper is still on, but Sam wants a bath to pop him into right away after he takes it off and wipes the worst of it off. 

Sam spares one second to add some bubbles to the warm water before he undoes the straps. He's delicate with this step, as he can tell it bothers Dean that this has happened. 

Dean's still crying at a pretty impressive intensity when Sam lobs the diaper into the trash. He wads together some toilet paper and starts wiping at Dean's dirty little tush and back when Dean starts apologizing to him in a strung out voice. 

"I - I - I'm su-orr-rry Daddy!" His little boy cries. 

"Oh Monkey," Sam says crouching down and cupping Dean's cheeks, "this isn't your fault. You don't need to apologize."

"Bu-" sniff, "bu-" sniff.

"Nuh, uh. Sweets. The only butt around here is yours. And it could use a good scrub."

Dean was still crying, but there was a shy smile trying to come out on his face. Sam knew it wouldn't come out in full, his boy was feeling too awful to be happy quite yet. 

"Can Daddy put you in a bath?"

Dean was sniffling, but nodded his head, so Sam plucked him up and placed him in the warm water. 

He rinsed him off enough to get rid of the muck stuck to his backside and grabbed a cup from the counter. He turned the faucet back on and pulled the plug to freshen the water as he rinsed and washed Dean's hair. 

Sam always thought that taking a bath or a shower was one of the best ways to feel better when one was sick. So he figured making Dean feel fresh would make the little boy bounce back faster. 

Once Dean was all clean and rinsed he drained the tub and scooped the little boy up into a towel. 

Sam got him all snuggly once again and sat him in his lap as he took up a place on the toilet seat. 

"How does Dean's tummy feel?" He asked rubbing the boy dry. 

"Hurts."

"I know sweetheart. I know."

Dean cried a little more as Sam held him, but it was nothing like before.

"Daddy’s got you," Sam placed a kiss in the middle of his wet hair, "I've got you, Dean."

If Dean was tired before, then this was their boy running out of reserves. Dean's hair was still wet - like, _shower_ wet, not _towel-dried_ damp - by the time he was totally asleep. 

Sam opted for another diaper and another one of Dean's overly large pajama shirts before he wrapped Dean up in a new towel and dropped him off with his Papa. 

Cas looked a little less green, but a whole lot more flushed. Sam glanced into the bucket on the nightstand to see that Cas had thrown up while they were in the bathroom. 

The blue bubbles in the mix showed him that Cas had already rinsed his mouth out of the sour-smelling stomach bile with the mouth wash Sam has left on the end table.

"Well I'm glad you decided not to help," Sam said grabbing the bucket to dump and clean in the bathroom.

"Mmm, me too," Cas replied sleepily, pulling Dean into his arms and pressing his nose into Dean's hair. 

Sam sneaks into the bathroom to dump the bucket out in the toilet and flush the contents. He goes back to the room and replaces the bucket at the side table and ruffles the hair on his boys' heads before going back downstairs.

Its now pretty late. Crawling up on nine o'clock. Its hours past Dean's bedtime, and he hasn’t been sleeping great lately as it is, so Sam knows that Dean will be out for quite a few hours so long as there isn't some kind of explosive evacuation process his body decides to go through. 

Since its late Sam decides that his chances of feeding soup to Dean or Cas is pretty low, so he pours it into a bowl to chill in the fridge so he can try serving it to them tomorrow. 

After that he cleans up the kitchen and calls it a night himself.

*****

"You think you can stomach some broth?"

"Yeah."

Sam gives Dean a small bowl of chicken broth for breakfast. So far they’ve made it a whole night without Dean exploding from a single end. So Sam thinks that he might be able to feed Dean a solid meal at some point today. 

Dean is sitting in a pile of blankets in his bar stool at the counter. It’s a special one that they bought which holds the boy securely no matter how tired he is. Which is nice cause as the moment Dean is just _barely_ awake at the counter. 

Raphael is in the seat next to him and as Sam pushes the bowl toward Dean he lifts his head up just enough to spy over the edge. 

There's a classic 'Dean Pout' in place, and Sam merely pushes back Dean's hair in an encouraging manner. 

Sam turns back to the stove and continues to make breakfast for himself. A ham and cheese omelet, nice big and fluffy in case he doesn't have a chance to take lunch. 

A few minutes pass by before Sam hears obscenely loud slurping coming from behind him. He turns to spy Dean kneeling on the chair, arms tucked around Raphael who he has decided to hold, and hovering over the bowl to simply suck up the broth as if his lips were a vacuum. 

As he watches Dean sits back and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. 

"Its icky, Daddy."

"Is broth icky?"

"Yeah."

Dean frowns as he stares at the bowl, and Sam knows he's about to beg his way out, but Sam needs him to eat to prove that Dean can keep something down. 

"I know it’s not yummy like pancakes, but I need you to drink as much as you can, okay."

That's not enough of an incentive for Sam's sweet angel. 

"No thank you, Daddy."

He makes to hop down from the chair but Sam catches the little boy mid jump.

"Well I'm sorry Monkey, I didn’t realize you were still feeling bad. I'll just carry you upstairs and you and Papa can spend another day in bed."

Sam can tell Dean doesn't like these plans. He had been told he could be in the living room today, watching his favorite toons and playing with his toys, but only if he was feeling better. 

"Um. Maybe I have some soup?"

"Do you want to try more?"

"Yeah." 

"Okay then."

Sam sets him back at the table and Dean looks less than impressed with the bowl in front of him, but he picks it up and takes a few sips. 

Pleased that his little boy is giving it a try Sam turns back and finishes making his breakfast. 

He's plating up his eggs when Dean lets out a heavy sigh. "Daddy?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Can I drink on the couch? Please Daddy?"

Sam considers it for a moment. Dean is a notorious little con-man, and he's worried Dean will try to worm his way out of the broth. But the other part of Sam, the _curious_ part, really wanted to see what Dean would do if left alone. 

"Sure Monkey, but don't spill on the couch please."

"I won't Daddy."

Dean drops down from the chair and grabs his blanket, draping it over his head like a robe - he looks like a little blanket monk - and takes his bowl and stuffed friend to the other room.

Sam smiles and decides to give him until he's done with his own breakfast before checking in on him. 

He takes the time to make a cup of tea for Cas, the older man was taking a well deserved shower before coming down for his own breakfast. By the time Cas' cup is prepared Sam's omelet is cool enough to eat. 

Cas comes in twenty minutes later as Sam is putting his plate in the sink - and he's holding Dean's empty broth bowl. He's dressed in a plain, white, V neck tee, and has on an old ratty pair of Sam's cotton plaid pajama pants from college.

They should really toss those out.

"Morning."

"Morning."

They kiss each other's cheek in greeting. 

"Did Dean finish all of his broth?"

"Appears so," Cas says dropping the bowl in the sink and grabbing his cup of tea.

"So how are you feeling?" Sam asks as he presses his palm to the older man's forehead. 

"Good. I finally feel kind of hungry, my skin no longer has that hot, tight feeling to it, and now that I've showered I feel more like a human and less like something that crawled out of a sewer drain."

Sam hums thoughtfully as he cards his hand through Cas' hair and smells the man's almond butter shampoo.

"I'm grateful for that, by the way, you were starting to smell like ass."

Cas scoffs and hits Sam's arm, but there's no heat in the gesture. 

Cas takes a seat at the counter as Sam starts cleaning up from breakfast. He scrubs the pan he used to make his omelet and leaves it on the drying rack before stepping into the living room to observe Dean. 

Their little boy is perched on the sofa, watching an old cartoon on Netflix from the nineties - it's about a family of dinosaurs, poorly constructed, vinyl dinosaurs - which is normal. Dean has always preferred the older TV shows when it comes to cartoons. 

The blanket is still draped about his head and puddled around his bare legs. Sam still only has him in a diaper and a t-shirt, which Dean won't argue with. 

According to the four year old pants are "denonmic" and he refuses to wear them unless instructed to do otherwise. 

"How does my monkey-butt feel?" Sam asks joining him on the couch.

"Good Daddee."

He's polite enough to answer, but not enough to take his eyes off of the screen. 

"Can I go play with Mr. Skiggles now?" 

Sam looks at the excited face his son is displaying. _Mr. Squiggles_ is Dean's pet. They figured he was getting old enough to learn some responsibility so they got him a pet to look after. 

And sure, Sam and Cas do most of the work, but Dean helps. And that's almost the point. 

Can't figure out what Mr. Squiggles is yet? A turtle. Mr. Squiggles is a turtle. And Dean named him as such because of all of the _skiggles_ marking his back.

Sam has kept their boy away from the turtle during Dean's bought of sickness to keep the germs from spreading and to make sure Dean didn’t get sick _on_ the turtle. 

But if Dean's feeling better Sam sees no point in keeping two friends apart. 

"Sure sweetheart. But keep an eye on him if you let him out of the tank." Dean's good with not losing him, but Sam reminds him anyway. 

"Yes Daddy." 

Dean scampers upstairs with blanket and Raphael in tow. 

Sam leans back on the couch and continues to watch the episode Dean left running. Sam has no energy left to grab the remote and change it. Its Thursday and now that the boys are on the rebound he'll have no excuse to not go into the office tomorrow. 

Cas shuffles into the room and snuggles alongside of Sam on the couch. He has his legs bent awkwardly on the floor for a few minutes before he props his feet up onto the coffee table. 

His clean, dry, socks make contact with the surface for a solid second before he's jerking them back and sitting up. 

"Babe, I think you overwatered the plant again," he says peeling off his wet socks. 

He's talking about the plant that sits on their coffee table. A birthday present from his mom last year which still lives despite Sam's effort to simultaneously drown and or dehydrate it. 

"Didn't water it this morning," he replies absently, not taking his eyes from the TV much like how Dean hadn't earlier. 

He watches as Cas grows curious with his bundle of wet socks, and raises an eyebrow when Cas brings one to his nose. 

The man takes a quick sniff and his hand drops to his lap as he turns to give him a pointed look. 

"What?"

"What do you think?"

Sam looks a little harder at Cas' white sock, which has turned yellow, kind of like the....

He looks back at the coffee table where a puddle is forming around the only potted plant that they have in their living room.

That little sneak....

"Dean Michael!"


	2. Adventures in Potty-Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does it take to get Dean to graduate from diapers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, any suggestions for a chapter are welcome :)
> 
> No matter how big or small :)

Dean had long passed his fourth birthday and Cas was still buying diapers with their weekly groceries. It was one of the facts in their household that just kind of existed, like; the laptop was Sam's territory, the honey in the pantry belonged to Cas, and Dean was only ever going to wear diapers. 

They'd tried potty-training once before, for approximately a week after Dean reached the thirty month mark. They figured that two and a half was old enough for the boy to have the physical and mental ability to learn to use the sea-foam green fishie themed training potty that they had bought for the downstairs bathroom. 

The diapers had been put away and a fun box of training pull ups had been bought. They had been an assortment of colors and designs, camo, flame, monster trucks, footballs. The stereotypical boy designs that they thought Dean would like. 

He had been hesitant about the pull-ups. And the first three days of the adventure had been spent with he and Sam finding and catching a half naked Dean as he ran about the house, pull-up discarded somewhere, and he was running away from his daddies' open arms, his naked little tush wiggling in his escape. 

Somehow they had accidentally reinforced to him that pull-ups meant a game. And the rules were that Dean could remove the pull-up and run naked, anywhere, anytime, and one of his daddies would run after him, and they'd all giggle like it was a good time. 

They had learned as much when they had gone out to dinner with Sam's parents and Dean had dropped his pants and thrown his - thankfully dry - pull-up in the air before he took off through a crowded restaurant. 

If the patrons hadn't noticed half-naked and giggle-shreiking Dean running amuk then they had to have seen the sight of Sam running after him, arms extended as he reached for the terrifying giggle monster while constantly letting out a stream of "Dean Michael! Get back here!" 

It had been a rude awakening for their little boy that his pull-ups had to stay _on_.

After that it had been the battle of getting Dean to try out the little potty they had bought for him. The potty wasn't a foreign place to Dean growing up, it may be a little squeamish for some people to hear, but parents don't always have alone time when they scuttle off to the bathroom. Especially if you have a curious little Monkey that liked to follow you around. 

Cas couldn't count the number of times he'd been in the bathroom, door open, fan on and magazine survey in hand and their little boy would toddle in. 

He'd ask questions:

"What are you doing?"

"Going to the bathroom sweetheart. "

"What's that?"

"It's like when you make a mess in your diaper."

"Doesn't you have a diaper?"

"Nope. Papa and Daddy use a big boy potty. Does Dean want to try?"

"No thank you, Papa."

He'd play with things:

"Is Dean making a mess?" 

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh huh."

"What's Dean getting into then?"

"Is a desert Papa."

"A desert?.... is that the epsom salts?"

He'd flush things:

_woosh_

"Uh-oh."

"Dean Michael!"

So yeah, the bathroom and what went on in there wasn't a mystery to Dean. The difficult thing about it was getting Dean to use the bathroom.

They'd crossed off every item on the list that tells a parent that their child is ready for potty-training. He pretty much always woke up dry, he was aware of when he was going - he'd get a _zen_ look on his face and his eyes would widen - he had names for everything and all the parts (though if you asked Cas it was a bit of a ridiculous step) and he used the names frequently. 

The terms they had gone with had been a bit of a debate, oddly enough. Sam wanted to go with the words his parents had taught them, but Cas found them ridiculous to teach a toddler. 

_"Sam, no. I don't care if pee pee is an 'unimaginative' word. We're not going with your suggestion."_

_"Its important to create a sense of intimacy and familiarity between Dean and his own body, Cas. Original terms will help foster a positive body image. It'll help him grow self confidence and see him as a unique individual. This is important for his self-worth."_

_"It's his_ penis _, Sam. It doesn't matter what we call it, he'll start playing with it in ten years and find all the self-worth he needs."_

_"If it doesn't matter then why can't we go with my suggestion."_

_"Because your suggestion is schnitzel. Who teaches their two year old to call their penis a schnitzel?"_

_"My parents did."_

_"And I apologize for their cruel humor. But I refuse to hear our toddler asking for German sausages every time he goes to the bathroom."_

_"Hey. It kind of makes sense, the whole thing is_ vienerschnitzel _."_

_"No. Just - just fucking no."  
_

So Cas had picked the words. 

Pee pee, wee, bum, and poo.

All totally innocent, totally normal words to teach your toddler, and actual words that he could say. 

The bonus was that Dean used them too.

None of that, however, meant that Dean actually used the potty. Cas had been toeing a very difficult line of suggesting that Dean use it on a frequent basis, while trying to avoid making Dean uncomfortable with the idea. It was hard work, and very frustrating though, as Dean would always meet his prodding of, "does Dean need to pause and go potty?" with an almost frustratingly polite; "no please, Papa."

It was then an inevitability that five to ten short minutes later that Dean would approach and announce "Dean goes potty." Before the zen look would drop down over his face and he'd wee or poo in his pull-up. 

Cas' frustration with Dean _seemingly_ undermining his will as a parent brought them to the end of the week when Cas dropped Dean down on the potty right when he knew the little guy's bladder was full, and he told the little boy that he wasnt moving from the spot until he went wee or poo. 

Dean weed in his little boy potty and Cas had just thrown his arms up to clap and cheer his little boy on, when Dean ran from the room, crying, his naked little butt disappearing from the room before Cas knew what had happened. 

He had to follow the sounds of Dean's little cries to find out the problem. Dean had burrowed himself into their wicker basket in the livingroom where they kept their blankets.

"Where's Papa's Cherry gotten off to?" He'd said approaching the sulking little boy.

"I nuh know."

Cas frowned at the sight of Dean's little tush poking out of the blankets, his feet kicking the air, trying to wedge himself in further. 

He'd pulled off the top two blankets, and used the third, that Dean had already wrapped himself up in, to scoop the little boy up. 

Cas had cuddled his little caterpillar on the couch and unwrapped Dean's little blonde head. He pressed a kiss to his head and asked him "why all the tears?"

Between sniffles and wiping his rosy cheeks Dean had mumbled, "Don' wanna gr-grow up."

Cas and San had discussed their little potty-monster's response and determined that Dean might remember enough of his old life to not want to grow up in this one. It was something that they never knew with certainty, what Dean remembered of his old life, and it fluctuated from one day to the next. 

Sure, Dean's memories had dulled and their clarity had faded, but they still came back to him at times. And Cas and Sam could see them play out over his face in a cruel game of deja vu which would reduce Dean into a koala of clingy affection for a few days. 

So if Dean said he didn't want to grow up, then who were his daddies to try and make him?

So potty-training attempt number one had met its end.

Since then a year and a half had passed, and now Cas was at their local grocery store with their sweet little boy, buying supplies for the week. 

Cas had picked Dean up from preschool and put him down for a nap earlier. The preschool Dean went to was more daycare less kindergarten prep, as Cas and Sam weren't going to start Dean off in school until he was six. 

It had been a long discussion between both fathers. Neither wanted to push Dean into growing up, especially when he made it known that he wanted to hold off on the big milestones in his young life. 

However, Dean still ironically argued against being "babied". He didn't need a nap time. Thomas the Train was for _little_ boys, and only little kids had their daddies make bottles for them. 

But! Snoozing with Papa in the big bed while watching cartoons was okay cause _"grampa falls asleeps lots watching TV, and grampa's not little also."_

Big trains were cool, cause _"they has conducors, and conducors have long beards, and beards aren't for kids."_

And additionally, his sippie cup was perfectly reasonable, and quite practical to the little guy. _"Sippie cups aren't for little kids, cause big kids run lots, and Daddy and Grama say I run lots. An-and sippie cups don't spill."_

It was far from Cas to remind him just how much he would run as a pre-toddler once he got comfortable with the movement. 

But anyways, back to their day. 

Dean's daycare/preschool was for a few hours in the morning. Cas would drop him off at nine and be back at one to pick him up. It was a short enough time for Dean to stay well behaved, and long enough for Cas to start missing him when he picked him up. 

He couldn't fathom being away from him like Sam for hours every weekday. 

After daycare Cas would bring Dean home, listening to Dean chatter from the moment Cas saw his bright freckled face, until Cas was pulling into the driveway. He'd hop out and open the back door, unbuckling Dean from his booster seat and his skinny little arms would latch around Cas' neck. 

Dean would still be talking as Cas carried him upstairs, and Dean wouldn't even fight the nap, cause he'd never even register how tired he was until Cas was tucking him into his bed and carding his hand through Dean's hair. 

After Dean's nap Cas had packed the little boy up and carted him off to the grocery store where they were currently. 

Cas was pushing the cart, his hands and arms framing Dean's little body, the boy was not allowed to take his hands off of the handle. He could ride the cart or walk with Papa, but Cas had learned his lesson when it came to shopping with Dean; if he wanted to keep his son, then Dean didn't let go of the cart.

Currently Dean was riding. His little feet were propped up using the bottom shelf, and his skinny little arms were wrapped around the handles, his head resting on top if them. 

He hadn't fully woken up from his nap before Cas took them shopping, and as a result Dean was going to take a while longer to completely wake up. 

But that was kind of the point. Cause when Dean was tired, he wasn't capable of getting into trouble. 

Cas was standing before the nut selection. Sam had taken to making his own salads for lunch as opposed to ordering the excessive ten dollar salad from the upscale deli most of the other members of the firm went to. But in order to appease Sam's appetite the salad had to contain _everything_. Hearts of romaine, arugala, chopped spinach, diced chicken, shredded bacon, jalepeño stuffed olives, parmesean cheese curls, hard-boiled eggs, bell pepper slices and slivered almonds. All topped with Sam's favorite homemade vinagrette dressing - which came from his mom. 

Instead of teasing Sam about the laundry-list salad Cas opted to take the high road and argue that through technicalities Sam was thirty-two and his mom was still packing a lunch for him.

However, at the moment Cas couldn't remember if Sam preferred to have the almonds pre-slivered or if he liked to chop them himself. 

He thought about it as he gently scratched his nails through Dean's hair. 

"I'll just get both," he murmured grabbing both packages. 

Whichever one Sam didn't use could end up part of his afternoon snack. 

He placed the items in the cart - according to his specific organizational standards, and dipped his head down to kiss the exposed part of Dean's head as he started walking. 

"What has you so tired my little Cherry?"

Dean moved his head from one side to the other, but didn't say anything. Cas wasn't too worried, their little boy would sleep eighteen hours a day if they let him. 

Cas was at the end of his mental list for food stuffs. They were now onto the hygenic items, soaps, detergents, shampoos, toilet paper, and Dean's fresh supply of diapers. 

This leg of their shopping trip took no time at all and soon Cas was making a quick stop into the diaper aisle to get Dean's regular box. 

His back had been turned for no more than a second and Dean had disappeared from the cart. 

"Dean?"

Cas drops the diapers into the cart and rushes to the end of the asile. He whips his head back and forth and doesn't spy Dean among the regular shoppers.

"Dean!"

He checks the aisles on either side and still, no sign of his little boy. 

"DEAN!"

His heart is pounding at this point, and he's rushing back to the cart again, hoping that Dean has made his way back, and as he's coming up the aisle - to his empty cart - Dean's little form walks into view. 

"Jesus Christ, Dean," Cas lets out all of the pent up air that was stuck in his chest as he falls to his knees and gathers his little boy up. 

He's holding Dean to him pretty tightly, and can feel how hard his chest is pounding from where he's holding Dean against him. It might have only been less than a minute that Dean was gone, but there's a lot of aging that a parent does in that amount of time. 

"Don't ever walk off again."

Cas lets his heart slow down before he stands up, his little boy curled into him on his hip, and he finally pays mind to the fact that Dean is holding something. 

"Whatcha got there Dean?"

There's a clear plastic package tucked under the boys arm, and Dean leans back a little bit to show Cas what he's holding. 

It's a package of superhero underwear. 

"Is that some underwear?" Cas asks as he starts pushing the cart with one hand. 

"Yeah," Dean's fingering the packaging. He seems unsure with his choice.

"Does Dean want to try underwear?"

"Its okay?" His beautiful green eyes look up at him. 

"Of course its okay," Cas pushes the cart into the small clothing section, if Dean is showing an interest in wearing underwear and ditching his diapers, then Cas is going to encourage him and show him how proud he is. 

"Why does Dean want to try underwear, huh?" He's curious. Sam and Cas were sure that they would have a five year old still coming up to them and kindly asking for a diaper change.

Dean shrugs as Cas pulls up to the display of little boy underwear and glances down to the boy on his hip. His heartrate might be back to normal, but he's not putting his boy down until he's strapping him into the carseat. It might take him longer to check out, but Cas doesn't care. 

"You don't know why, or you don't wanna tell Papa?"

Cas grabs a few extra packs of underwear. The kind his boy grabbed was meant for kids who weighed about forty pounds, but Dean didn't even tip the scale at thirty. It was a fact that always had he and Sam concerned, that Dean was so small, but they'd been reassured multiple times by the boy's doctor that he was just small for his age. 

He doesn't take the pack from Dean though, he figures that if Dean takes to the underwear that he'll grow into the superhero ones. 

He tosses in some Batman and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles one. 

Dean shrugs again, this time with an "I nuh know."

Cas accepts the answer, knowing that at some point he'll get the story from Dean. Sometimes his little boy gets a little shy and it takes him a while to grow confident with explaining himself. 

With Dean on his hip and the shopping done Cas pushes his way to the front. It takes them a little longer to get through the checkout since Cas refuses to put Dean down, but he gets the little boy to assist him by handing him the smaller items for him to drop on the belt. 

Still, before long Cas is locking Dean in his carseat and breathing easy, confident that Dean can't escape the confines of the car on his own. 

With that Cas loads up the trunk and drives them home. 

*****

"Does Dean need to potty?" 

"Yeah Daddy," Dean lifts his arms up and lets his Daddy scoop him up off the couch where he had been watching cartoons before dinner. 

His Daddy had come home from work a while ago, and Dean had been super excited to show his Daddy his new underwear. He had run into the driveway wearing nothing but the TMNT cotton breifs that his Papa had helped him with, and the look of excitement his Daddy gave him was awesome. 

Daddy's face was all wrinkled around his eyes and lips, and he had grabbed Dean around his torso and lifted him up high. Dean had kicked his feet, giggling as his gigantic Daddy hefted him up high before tucking him against his hip. 

"What's Dean wearing?"

"Underwear."

"No he's not, Dean doesn't wear underwear."

He had giggled and leaned back in his Daddy's arms, he pointed at the graphics that were patterned out over his crotch. "Bu-but look! It has Raphie on it!"

Dean hadn't even seen his Papa grab the package of TMNT breifs, but he thought it was amazing that he did. Wearing Raphael around over his junk was the greatest honor Dean could think of. 

"I see that," Daddy said as he grabbed some stuff from the car, including the lunch box that Papa and he had put notes in that morning. Dean had gotten distracted after that and asked his Daddy if he had liked Dean's note. 

He and his Daddy hadn't discussed his change from diaper to underwear since. 

Now though, Daddy was carrying Dean to the downstairs potty and setting him on the step stool that Dean usually used to wash his hands, but now it was serving double duty and helped him pee. 

Daddy helped tug his pants down and went for his underwear to, but Dean stopped him. 

"I do it, Daddy," he said grabbing the elastic band of the breifs and pulling them straight down to his ankles. 

"Is it okay if Daddy and Dean pee together?"

Dean's eyes go wide. He's gonna pee with Daddy? Peeing all on his own is fun, and he remembers a little bit how it works, but peeing with Daddy would be fun! He could see how Daddy does it and copy him. 

Maybe if he asked nice Papa would pee with him too, and he could do it just like his daddies. Dean wanted to be just like them.

"Please Daddy?"

Dean watches as his Daddy pulls himself out of his sleep pants and boxers. His pants are pulled down just a little bit and Daddy has just pulled his penis out through the front of his boxers. 

It's okay, but Dean thinks its more fun to have his pants and underwear around his ankles. He doesn't think Daddy sees that he's naked, but he won't remind him. 

Then they start peeing. 

Daddy is really good, his aim makes it in the bowl the whole time, while Dean dribbles on the lid a bit. But it's a lot of fun and Dean learns some tips about how to hold himself to make his aim a little better. 

"All done Monkey?"

"All done."

Daddy helps him clean himself up and holds him up at the sink so he can wash his hands before he carries him into the kitchen where Papa is putting out some plates. Papa and Daddy's plates have the Icky grilled fish that they like eating, and Dean's is the golden gooey mountain of mac and cheese!

Daddy drops him off in his booster seat and Dean starts eating before he's been given the okay. But it's mac and cheese, so Papa and Daddy will understand. 

His daddies sit down and start on their own dinner, and they talk with one another about boring stuff. Daddy has to take his car in for an oil change tomorrow, and Dean's upset. He already knew Daddy was taking the SUV in to the mechanics, but he's upset because Daddy won't be able to take him with this time, and Papa talks about bills. 

Blah. Blah. Blah. 

Nothing fun and nothing that concerns Deans. 

He eats his noodles, and wiggles in his seat. 

Eventually Daddy turns to him and asks about his day. 

"How was preschool today Monkey?"

Dean isn't stupid. His "preschool" is an accelerated daycare program. He knows it's why none of the ladies mind the fact that he's still, or at least that he _had been,_ in diapers. It also helped that Dean always let them know when he needed a change. 

But hey, Dean remembers enough of his old life to recall that even the trickiest of locks can be picked with a little charisma. 

"Good," Dean says scooping up another mouthful. 

"Papa tells me that a new teacher started today, is that true?" 

Is Daddy talking about Miss Susan? Dean thinks he is, and - oh boy - his face flushes hot. Miss Susan is the prettiest lady he's ever seen. She's even prettier than Grama, and Grama has such soft hair. 

Dean's smitten with his new preschool teacher, and he doesn't even know the meaning of the word. 

"What's her name?" 

"Miss Susan."

"Do you like Miss Susan?"

Dean feels shy, and instead of answering, nods. 

"What do you like about her?"

"She's pretty."

Papa chuckles at that. 

"Yeah?" Daddy keeps questioning him, Dean knows the man is picking at something. 

"Does Dean have a crush on her?" 

Dean can't lie to Daddy, not when he's using his puppy eyes to pull answers from him.

Dean nods again. 

Daddy scoots a little closer in his chair and leans a little closer to him. He whispers this time, kind of like they're sharing a secret. 

"Did you decide to start wearing underwear to show Miss Susan what a big boy you are?"

Wow. Daddy's good. 

Dean nods again. 

Daddy has a big smile in his face as he sits back up and starts in on his plate again. 

"Well I think she'll be really proud of you sweetheart. I know I am."

Daddy's praise means a lot to him, and after hearing it Dean can't keep the smile off his face as he finishes his macaroni and cheese. 

He's distracted with his thoughts. It's the end of an era, diapers were great while they lasted, but if Dean wears cool underwear from now on he can take his pants off and show pretty ladies the graphics on his crotch. They'll think he's so cute. Dean thinks he'll get his first kiss before kindergarten this time around. 

Dean's too busy with his food, and it's why Dean doesn't see Papa get up and pull five dollars out of his wallet and tuck it into Daddy's shirt.

His daddies share a kiss and spend the rest of dinner staring at him with smiles on their faces. He's too happy to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So an explanation for Sam's demand to use the word "Shcnitzel." I'm German on my mother's side, and when myself and my siblings were growing up she told us that our 'private parts' were called shcnitzels. (Regardless of whether you had a weiner or not). 
> 
> She never told us that it was a food, so when we grew up and found that people ate schnitzel we were kind of traumatized until my mom explained everything to us. She has a cruel sense of humor, and I dedicate that part of the chapter to her :)
> 
> Like, I can't make this up folks.


	3. Dean's Fourth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's first Fourth of July.
> 
>  
> 
> This takes place long before the previous chapter. Dean is roughly 18 months old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally wrote this on my phone in like an hour. So it's a little shorter than I wanted and may contain errors, but I realized that I missed this holiday in the original story. So here's my makeup. 
> 
> I hope you like it! And I hope you enjoyed your Fourth! For all of my non-American readers have fun reading about our crazy-ass holiday!

Dean was not a fan of fireworks. 

Usually he was okay with loud sounds. He slept through thunderstorms, danced whenever he was around loud music, and giggled at the sound of revving car engines from around his pacifier – which was too freaking cute to watch in person – but fireworks always put tears in his eyes. 

They hadn’t figured it out right away. Deans first encounter with the bright balls of fire had been during the hell week of his teething adventure, and both he and Cas had been too preoccupied with caring for their little boy to pay much mind to the holiday festivities going on around them. But Dean's second time around he was old enough to have a little more fun. 

The neighborhood that they lived in was the ''lower'-upper class, so naturally everyone had extra cash to spend a few hundred bucks on a medium of entertainment that would last literal seconds. It was tradition in their neighborhood for people to set off fireworks starting a week before the actual holiday, and each street would get an assigned night. That way the neighborhood would be filled with lights every night until the actual holiday itself. 

So naturally on June 28th when the neighborhood fireworks were set to begin Sam and Cas had brought Dean outside, letting him stay up a whole hour past his bedtime so that he could see all the pretty lights. 

It was actually something they had been looking forward to for a few weeks. The novelty of fireworks had all but worn off for the two men, but now that they had a little one to share in the excitement fireworks were fun and new all over again. However, the fun came to a halt when they found out that Dean's reaction to fire in the sky, was to scream.  
*  
“Is Dean playing in Papa's flowers?”

Sam watched along as their toddler delicately pulled petals off of the flowers in Cas' garden. The one that he painstakingly planted and spent hours in each week up keeping. 

Dean's response sounded like a muffled “ffowers” from behind his pacifier. 

“Yeah, Monkey. Dean's playing in the flowers.”

It was late in the day, and the sun had just started to go down, Dean was still dressed in his little blue plaid shorts with a white polo shirt and an adorable pair of tiny sandals that made Sam want to pretend to be hungry for little toes. It was past Dean's bedtime, but they were making an exception seeing as it was the first night of fireworks.  
Sam was perched on the stairs to the deck sipping a beer as he watched Dean toddling around in the flowers. The only reason he was content with Dean picking through the flowers was because Cas was in the house, making himself a mixed drink while getting Dean a bottle of juice. 

He was watching the sunset when little hands patted his bare knee. Sam looked down to see Dean's little face looking up at him, his wide green eyes wide with delight. His little fingers were holding up a yellow petal in offering to Sam. 

“Oh. Sweetheart, is that for me?”

Dean babbled behind his pacifier and bounced where he stood, before repeating “DDah, Dah, Dah, Dah.”

“Yes, Yes. Dean picked Daddy a flower,” Sam grabbed the tiny petal in his large hand and made a show of smelling it before tucking it into his hair. “Thank you so much Monkey.” 

Sam scooped Dean up onto his lap and the little boy happily curled up. As much as Dean clearly thought that bedtime was beneath him it became a struggle for him to stay awake when he was up past seven thirty. So needless to say their little boy was drooping. Another reason why Sam had let Dean playing in the flowers. A moving baby was an alert baby. 

A few minutes later Cas padded out onto the deck. He had a throw blanket from the family room – the one Sam's mom had given Dean for Christmas – draped over his arm, Dean's bottle in one hand, and his fruity mixed drink in another. Cas' raspberry bush had matured this summer, and unlike most people who would eat the fruit or use them for desserts Cas had grown them for the intent of making fruity mixed drinks with them. Cas was the only person Sam knew who was patient enough to wait for a plant to grow and mature just for a cocktail recipe. 

“There are my boys,” Cas says as if he hadn't just been out on the deck with them ten minutes ago. He hands Dean's bottle over to him so that Sam can hold it. 

“What time is it?” Sam asks as he unfolds the blanket with one hand, throwing it over his lap to cover his legs and most of Dean from the chill that is overtaking the night as the sun goes down. 

“Quarter till,” is Cas' answer as he sits down and pulls the end of the blanket over his lap, sipping at his raspberry red drink. 

Sam hums as he tips the bottle up to offer Dean a drink. The fireworks typically started at nine. It was as early as they could be for people to actually see them, while not being so late that it kept people from going to bed at a decent hour. 

There were families in the neighborhood who had little kids, so people who set fireworks off were considerate enough to only keep the show between ten and fifteen minutes so that any little ones weren’t totally kept from a restful night. Sam and Cas weren’t too bothered by it, even now that they had Dean. The fireworks were just a bit of fun, and it only lasted for a week. Besides, when they were inside the blasts weren’t too loud, so who did it hurt? 

Sam tipped the bottle up but Dean didn’t appear very interested. He was sitting sideways on his lap, Deans little cheek pressed into Sam’s chest. His little eyes were drooping fast now that Dean wasn’t playing in his Papa's flower garden. 

“Oh my poor little Monkey. You’re just about ready to nod off aren’t you,” he said ran in his hand through Deans hair. 

Their little boy made no move to respond and Sam came back with a gentle coo and a kiss for the boy's head. 

“He'll certainly wake up in a few minutes,” Cas murmured quietly. 

They hadn’t told Dean the surprise for the fireworks, as they wanted to see the awe on Deans precious little face when he saw fireworks for the first time in this new life. Cas was planning on sitting in the grass at Sam’s feet and recording Deans reaction so that they could replay Deans response for years to come. 

Sure enough, at two minutes to nine acts sat before Sam and started recording. He was just in time too, as a minute later the first firework was shot off. It appeared several blocks away, to the north and it was a brilliant red firecracker that fizzled into a shower of sparks. The initial spin of the whistle as the explosive rocketed through the air caused Dean to jump, and the crackle of the sparks had him whimpering and turning toward Sam’s chest. 

“No, no, baby. You’re okay. They’re just pretty lights, don’t you wanna see?” 

He tried turning Dean back around to look again as a dazzling emerald one shot off from another backyard when Dean’s breathing hitched from around his pacifier. Sam knew what that meant, and so didn’t Cas. 

Sam had his beer dropped and had Dean bundled in a second before he was swooping Dean into the house, the sound of his baby’s cries drowning out the fireworks being shot off in rapid succession from the houses around them. 

He cupped his hand around the back of Dean's head and bounced Dean in his arms, trying to placate and calm him. The sound of the sliding glass door opening alerted Sam to the fact that Cas had followed, and it also allowed the sound of a few more firework explosions to follow him inside. 

The loud bangs and crackling sparks renewed Deans cries, and whatever progress Sam had made in calming the boy had come undone. 

“Its okay, Dean. Its okay they’re just fireworks honey.”

Dean didn’t seem soothed by his Daddy's words, and merely wailed some more as the sound of fireworks leaked into the house.

Sam shot his husband a miserable look. Tears weren’t what they had expected for Deans first encounter with the fourth of July.

*

Dean looked great. 

Daddy had him in a great pair of shorts, ones that hugged his diaper and made the curve of his butt look irresistible thanks to the swell of his diaper paddling. His shirt was sleeveless, a red tank top that let his little arms show, and Dean was sure to put his arm muscles on display. He was a tough and strong munchkin, and he wanted everyone to know it. He was proving it too, not just shitting words like some douche bags. He had been holding onto Daddy’s arm most of the morning – well, most of however long they had been sitting there anyway – and whenever Daddy lifted his arm up Dean was able to hang on all on his own. It felt positively death defying each time, despite the fact that Dean's feet were only about an inch off the ground. 

The only thing Dean didn’t like about the outfit were his shoes. They were these little baby thongs that made his toes into Daddy’s kryptonite. It seemed that every time Daddy put them on him the large man would have to spend a few minutes every so often pretending to eat Deans toes. And even though it made Dean shriek with laughter each and every time – he did _not_ giggle, no matter what Daddy said – he thought it was a bit excessive. 

It was finally the fourth of July. And Dean was stoked. 

Everyone was dressed up like the American flag, reds, whites, and blues as far as the eyes could see. Papa had made a fucking awesome looking dessert that included raspberries, jello and pretzels that he was looking forward to trying, and they were spending the day with Grandma, Grandpa, and Daddy's brother's family. 

Daddy had loaded Dean up in the car early this morning and they drove out to Grandma and Grandpa's. They hadn't stayed long though, as after that they were back in the car, driving to the middle of the small town Grandma and Grandpa lived in. There was going to be a parade on main street and everyone wanted to get a good spot. 

The parade wasn’t set to start for another half an hour though, and so Dean's daddies were doing their best to entertain him. 

“Look at the muscles on you, little man!” Uncle Tom said, watching along and laughing at the sight of Dean dangling from his Daddy’s arm. 

Daddy lowered him to the ground and Dean smiled up at the brothers from behind his pacifier. Uncle Tom leaned over in his chair and pulled Dean up so he was standing atop his legs. Tom and Daddy were chatting about boring stuff, so Dean didn’t pay it much mind. Instead he was busy playing with Uncle Tom's beard. Dean's daddies took him to see Grandma and Grandpa most weekends. Sundays had developed into family day, which boiled down to a trip to Grandma’s where Dean got to hang off of Grandma's hip for a few hours as she completed various tasks with one hand. 

Be still Dean’s heart, he’s found his first love, and her name is Mary. 

But they didn’t get a chance to see Uncle Tom, Aunt Jess, and cousin Becky all that often. So he was going to take the chance to see them while he could. Daddy's brother and his family lived in Wisconsin near the Dells. It was going to make for a fun trip at some point when Dean was old enough to appreciate all of the sights. But for now he was content to play with Uncle Tom's beard. He had grown out some scruffy hair along his jaw, and it felt fun for Dean to run his fingers over it. 

Tom must have thought it was fun too, as during his conversation with Daddy he would turn to look at Dean and press random kisses to his hand. 

The novelty of Tom's beard wore off soon enough though, and Dean was being held sideways in Tom's lap to stare at Aunt Jess and Grandma. The two ladies were talking, but when Grandma spied Dean he was plucked from Tom's lap and found himself with a face full of Grandma kisses. Then he was onto Jess, who kindly fixed Dean's shorts – they were starting to sag, what with Dean being all over the place – before his Aunt passed him onto Becky. His older cousin was nine now, and she was still clueless on how Dean liked to be held. She was always flattening him to his back over the top of her legs, and it made it difficult for him to roll over to sit himself up. 

Fortunately he wasn't with Becky long before Grandpa noticed him, and Dean was sitting with Grandpa listening to him talk about the car club that participated in the parade. 

“Lots of beautiful cars there, Dean. We've got a whole mess of Model T's that people drive, muscle cars, ones with custom paint, restored ones. We've got this one leg of the parade that's all junkers. Auto parts businesses advertise themselves you see…”

Grandpa muddled on, and Dean let his gruff voice soothe over him. He was anxious about all of the loud noises to come, as he had seen the line up of firetrucks. He knew they were bound to let loose on the sirens a few times. 

Dean was still listening to Grandpa, but he was also running through his thoughts as he mindlessly grabbed his foot. Old life was starting to get fuzzy with how long he'd already been little, but he could recall enough information of his life as a hunter to know that loud noises, loud _jarring_ noises had never been too much of a bother before. Now though anything that hit a certain decibel made him cringe. Certain sounds made him weepy, and anything that shook his body or startled him made him cry. Sounds like fireworks. And let Dean tell you, the last week had been rough. 

Bed time couldn't come soon enough, and his daddies did their best to keep the sound from leaking in, but Dean would still hear the muffled pops and cry. Whether he was in his crib or not. It got to the point where the last three nights Daddy stayed up with him and rocked him on his rocker, while Papa held his hands over Dean's ears. It was nice as Daddy would hum and the vibrations from his chest would calm him down. But Dean wasn't sure Daddy and Papa snuggles would work against a fire engine. 

He was about to find out though, as a crackle over the loudspeakers that lined the street announced the start of the parade. There was a large turnout for such a small town, apparently the parade was a big deal for the surrounding area. The people along the sidewalks clapped, including Dean, though he hadn't released his foot and ended up just waving his free hand around. 

He heard Grandpa chuckle at that. 

They were just before the halfway mark for the parade route. Which gave them plenty of time to play 'pass-the-Dean' as he rode along his personalized conveyor belt to end up back in Daddy's lap. 

“You ready Monkey?” Daddy asked as Papa rooted around in Dean's diaper bag for something. 

“Yeah,” he answered though he was a little shaky as the sound of the whirring sirens approached. He could already feel the sounds reverberating in his chest, and his eyes glazed up in anticipation of his tears. 

“Don't cry sweetheart. Don’t cry. Papa and Daddy have something special for you.”

They did?

Dean looked back to Papa who was toying with what looked like ear muffs. 

“They good?”

“I think we'll have to make this work, it's as small as they'll go.”

Papa had a frown on his face as he reached over and brought the muffs over his head, covering his ears. Instead of the soft fur like his winter ear muffs had, this featured cups, which blocked out a lot of the sound. Daddy released Dean's legs – which he'd been holding the sides of – and pressed his hands over Dean's own, covering his ears. It effectively made sound nonexistent and Dean beamed. 

Papa held up a thumbs up to him and Dean tried his best approximation of “thank you” while muffled by a pacifier and unable to hear his own voice. Papa smiled back and kissed Dean's head. 

With Dean’s major concern taken care of he was able to turn back and enjoy the parade. 

There were lots of fire trucks. Old ones, state of the art ones. Regular ones. They all had firemen driving them and smiling and waving. Dean thought it was fuck awesome. Who wouldn't want a job where they got to be in parades? If Dean could just overcome his fear of sirens he'd be golden. He totally was going to be a firefighter when he grew up. 

After that there was a collection of old cars. And when he spied a vintage 82 Chevelle pull by his eyes popped wide and he hummed happily from behind his pacifier. 

He only knew Daddy was laughing at him cause he felt the rumble along his lower torso and legs. Dean hadn't even noticed Daddy had stood up. 

Papa was taking pictures and Daddy was occasionally talking to someone, but Dean was busy looking at everything. It was easier to appreciate things when his little ears weren't being assaulted. Like the high school marching band with flag twirlers, or the middle aged men driving figure eights down the road in go-carts. The man dancing in a dog costume advertising a local shelter, or the tractors bearing silly signs. 

It wasn’t until Dean spotted some clowns walking down the street that there was a problem. Six-four and two hundred pounds, you wouldn't think that Dean's Daddy had much to fear, but clowns were at the top of his list. So when one of those half-wit circus freaks walked by and made eyes at his Daddy Dean put on his best intimidation face. Pulling his eyes together, wrinkling his forehead, and pursing his lips – sure, he probably looked like a constipated toddler in reality, but, he was protecting his Daddy, and if his grump face didn’t chase the freak off then his shrieked “No!” certainly did the job. 

Forty-five minutes after it started the parade was over, and Papa was smoothing back his hair and removing the muffs to press kisses to his face while Daddy carried the chairs to the car.

“Oh, my little Cherry. Are you sleepy?”

“No,” Dean said slowly, despite the fact that he was rubbing at his eyes. 

“No? Are you sure? Cause if Dean wants to start his nap in the car that would be fine. You and Papa could lay down when we get to Grandma's. Hmm?”

Dean pressed his knuckles into his eye and cried in frustration as he dropped his head to Papa's shoulder. A week of post normal-bedtime nights were taking their toll, and honestly Dean wouldn't mind a nap with Papa cuddles. Dean was still trying to make up his mind, weighing the pros and cons of falling asleep voluntarily when he jolted awake. He was already strapped in and Daddy was driving back to Grandma's. Seems he had dozed off. 

Fuck. Dean was tired. He didn't want to nap, but he didn’t want to be grumpy and ruin the day either.

He sighed as he allowed his eyes to close. He figured that his daddies wouldn't let him sleep through all the fun, and even if he slept through some of it there was always next year. He sucked on his pacifier and let his head drop to the side. He didn't have to worry about making the most of his first official Fourth of July, especially when he knew it wouldn't be his last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I get Becky's name wrong? I think I did. Too bad I'm the world's laziest author and I don't feel like fact checking. She's not important. 
> 
> Y'all will forgive me if I'm wrong. Right?


	4. Good Morning!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few weeks ago Orannia sent me this request:
> 
> "If you are taking one shot requests, I'd love to read about a trip to the park - or maybe even just the guys out running with Dean in the stroller. Does Dean like dogs? *grin*"
> 
> I liked the stroller aspect as it is part of the original fic (imagine that they run in the mornings when able, I just don't always mention it) so I gave you a 'typical' morning for the boys. 
> 
> As always, I like requests and comments :) 
> 
> And I do my best to get to both, just sometimes get too busy to respond. 
> 
> Love you all ♡♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean is approximately 20ish months here

It was six AM. 

Sam had to be in the office at eight, which meant they had forty-five minutes for their run, which left plenty of time for stretching and a cool down before Sam had to shower. 

It was Cas' turn to get their boy up and settled into the running stroller for the morning. He was already in his running gear; a nice pair of loose, fitted pants and tank top. So all Cas had to do was change Dean and put him in the stroller before donning his running shoes and jacket.

Cas crept into Dean's nursery and clicked on the dimmed floor lamp in the corner. Dean was sleeping soundly in his crib, and would continue to do so as long as Cas stayed quiet. The little boy in question was splayed out on his back, his arms thrown to the sides. One hand holding onto his stuffed turtle, and the other curled into the soft blanket Dean enjoyed sleeping with while he drooled around his pacifier. He placed a new diaper out on Dean's changing table and grabbed a body suit to wrap Dean in on top of his pajamas. 

Dean was sleeping soundly when Cas slipped his hands between Dean and the mattress. He snuggled Dean to him for a second, smelling his sweet, baby-scented hair. Even in sleep Dean could recognize his Papa from his Daddy. Dean's little fist toyed with Cas' ear as he nuzzled his boy for a minute - if it had been Sam that picked Dean up then the boy would have instinctively played with his younger father's hair. 

Cas sighed, knowing that he had to put his snuggly bundle down and get going before they were too late. When he set Dean down the little boy curled up on the changing table, his little legs pulling up to his chest. Their little boy was a rolly polly bug. 

It made it very easy for Cas to unsnap his onesie and get at the boy's wet diaper. It took Cas only a few minutes to unwrap, wipe, recover and snap. Then he was curling sleepy Dean back up to his chest and making his way downstairs. 

Sam was in the kitchen, seated at the counter tying his shoes. Sam's hair was pulled back, and he was wearing his knit running suit. 

Cas hummed appreciatively at the sight. Sam was an attractive man, and Cas prided himself on the fact that his husband was kind _and_ ripped, the brains _and_ brawns. 

When Sam sat up in his seat Cas passed Dean off and placed Dean's suit on the counter. 

"Can you get him dressed?"

Sam made an affirmative noise before moving to gently slip Dean into his body suit while Cas put his own shoes on. 

When Cas had his shoes on he took Dean back so that Sam could pull his hair up into a messy bun.

Soon they were out in the driveway, Cas was strapping Dean into his stroller with his turtle and a warm bottle of apple juice should he wake up and want something to suck down. They spared a few minutes to jump around and stretch before Sam grabbed the handle of the stroller and they started their run.

Sam's legs were longer than Cas' so the stroller slowed him down a little bit. Cas liked the set up better this way, as he no longer had to deal with Sam running off like a rebellious Labrador in the mornings. And pre-coffee Cas can't keep up with Sam's naturally high energy levels. 

So Sam pushing around Dean kept them at the same pace. 

Their morning route was very basic. They ran down their street, to the main road and took a small access road with a bridge to a small private lake that lined one side of their neighborhood. Once there they turned around and headed home. 

The whole trip was just shy of three miles, so as long as their run only lasted half an hour they felt good with themselves and didn't feel guilty if they drank wine at night with their dinner. 

The morning air was crisp. It was a gorgeous September morning and while they were working up a decent sweat to keep themselves warm Cas made sure to jog forward and check on Dean every so often. 

It seemed that Dean wasn't prepared to wake up that morning. Sometimes he would wake up during his initial diaper change, other times he'd wake up halfway through the run. Other mornings – like this one - Dean would sleep soundly until breakfast. 

They reached the halfway point at the lake and turned back to head home. The sun was slowly creeping up the horizon, but it was still dark outside – which is why Dean's jogging stroller was reflective and Sam and Cas wore reflective bands on their ankles and wrists. 

Sam and Cas were able to complete their morning run without seeing anyone – sometimes they’d run into a neighbor out on their own morning jog – and without Dean waking up. It was a quiet morning, broken up with the sound of their panting and the soft patters of their feet. 

When they hit the driveway Cas stopped, putting his hands at his hips and walking around in a few circles to let his breathing steady out before he began stretching. 

While Cas did that Sam paced the length of the driveway with the stroller. Keeping it and dean moving – and keeping the little boy asleep – until his papa could tend to him. 

Cas finished his cool down and took the stroller from Sam so the other man could do his own thing. Cas crouched down and unstrapped Dean, snuggling him close and keeping him warm as he parked the empty stroller in the garage. He remembered to grab Raphael before he went back inside where he slipped Dean out of his suit.

Dean was stirring a little bit, so Cas kept the boy on his shoulder, rocking him as he heated up some oatmeal for Dean. He was going to get everything ready for Dean and then make breakfast for him and Sam with one hand. He never thought he would have the innate talent of doing damn near everything with a baby on his hip – or in this case his shoulder – but all of those weeks with the sling last year had made him an expert. 

Truth be told it wasn’t too difficult. So long as he kept his torso at the right angle he could spare his second hand for quick bursts without the fear of Dean slipping off. And actually mornings with Dean in his arms was such a common occurrence that Cas prepped breakfast the night before anyway. The turkey sausage, spinach and mushrooms for their eggs were already cooked and waiting in the fridge. All Cas had to do was mix up some eggs and milk and cook everything together. 

With the eggs going on the stove Cas popped some bread in the toaster and grabbed Dean's oatmeal from the microwave. 

It was getting close to the time when Sam had to leave, and the man wasn’t down from his shower, so Cas wandered over to the pantry and grabbed a tortilla that he'd dump Sam's half of the eggs in. 

All while Dean hung off of his shoulder. 

When Cas deemed the eggs acceptable – not runny, _bleck!_ \- he turned off the stove and set the pan on a hot pad next to the tortilla. He used a spoon to scoop Sam's half into the center of the tortilla and then proceeded to grab salsa, hot sauce, and shredded cheese from the fridge. If Sam wasn't going to have time for a proper sit down breakfast then a to-go breakfast burrito on the run was his next best option. 

_Rolling_ the burrito was the most difficult part of having dean in his arms. But if he could strap a baby into a diaper with only the use of one hand, then a tortilla was a cake-walk. After that Cas folded it into a paper towel to be sure that no juices or stray items would fall onto Sam's shirt while he ate in the car. 

Not two minutes after Sam's burrito was completed did a moose-sized tornado tear through the kitchen. 

“Where's my briefcase? Cassie, have you seen my keys? Are the socks on the dryer clean?” Sam's hair was half-dried, as he wrapped a tie about his neck and almost strangled himself. 

Cas rolled his eyes and handed sleep drunk Dean over to his other father. 

“Sit down and hold this.”

Sam reached out and took the baby without initially knowing what he was grabbing, when he saw it was his son the stress of a late morning deflated from him and he collapsed into a stool at the counter, Dean snuggled to his chest. 

Sam – now calm – watched as Cas grabbed Sam's keys, briefcase, lunch from the fridge (Sam hadn't even remembered that) and found a clean pair of socks for him. 

Cas was even kind enough to get on his knees and put them on Sam's bare feet. 

When he stood back up he took Dean. “I do believe you're set.”

Sam smiled and pulled Cas in for a kiss. “I gotta leave if I'm going to pick breakfast up on the way.”

Cas scoffed and handed Sam the burrito. 

“What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn.”

Now that Sam knew he had five minutes to spare he leaned back forward to continue kissing his husband. 

A soft grunt alerted them to the fact that Dean was finally waking up. 

Cas pulled back and looked to Dean. “Morning sleepy-head.”

Dean whined and pushed his face back into Cas' chest. 

“Aw. Someone isn't ready to wake up,” Sam said cupping the back of Dean's head. 

He pressed another kiss to Cas' lips. 

“I'll see you tonight.”

“I look forward to it.”

Cas helped make sure Sam had everything in hand and saw him out the door, waving as he backed out of the driveway. 

Then he was back to the kitchen for his and Dean's breakfasts. He brought out the food and drinks to the couch and sat down with a sigh. “How about some 'Wake Up with Al'? Huh sweetheart?”

All he got from their toddler was another grunt. 

Cas leaned back on the couch and let dean use his chest as a pseudo-bed as he ate his breakfast. 

Thirty minutes later Cas' plate was empty and he was rubbing Dean's back when the little boy started rubbing his face in Cas' shirt. It brought his attention to the fact that he was still in his sweaty workout clothes, but he was leaned on a blanket, and wasn’t t worried. Dean, however, probably didn’t prefer the smell of stale sweat. 

He pushed himself up and rubbed at his eyes with one little hand, pouting around his pacifier at the fact that he was now awake, and was clearly unimpressed with that fact. 

“Ah?”

“Yeah sweetie?” Cas pushed back Dean's hair.

“Where Dahdee?”

“He already left for work pumpkin.”

Dean looked sad that he had missed him, and he had clearly still been pretty out of it when he had work up briefly in the kitchen. 

“You wanna talk to Daddy at lunch? He won't have any meetings today.” Some days during lunch Sam would skype their twenty-month-old. Dean thought it was awesome and thought it was the best thing ever when Sam would say silly business things to him. 

_“Mr. Dean, did you get the sales report for last year's toy sales?”_

_“NNu”, giggle, “nu-n”, giggle “No! Dahdee!” Dean would stumble out through his damn near constant giggles._

_“Well I'll have my assistant fax them over to Mr. Turtle, we need to discuss our loss in lollipop revenue.”_  
  
Sam wasn't always free during lunch, but when he was he tried to make time for Dean. Their little boy was growing up and sometimes Sam felt like he was missing out. 

“Yeah, pease,” Dean answered his question, pulling Cas from his thoughts. 

“Okay, we'll do that later then. Does Dean want breakfast now?” 

Dean nodded and instead of feeding himself like the independent little boy he pretended to be he let Cas feed him his oatmeal as Dean watched the weather report for the week. 

In a little bit Cas would out Dean down in his playpen for some cartoons while he got showered and dressed. He needed to run errands, pick up some groceries, stop by the bank to make a car payment. Grab some stamps so he could mail out the bills. Pick something up for Hannah's birthday party in a few weeks. 

But that was all later. Right now all that was important was his sweet little boy and their quiet morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for typos. I have a new phone (Im working on a new laptop) and it kind of hates me.


	5. What happens when Cas burns his Cherry Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is being a little brat, and Cas thinks he needs a time out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Deadmockingbirds who has been asking (for a while, honestly) to see a misbehaved Dean. This was her comment:
> 
> "Of course I want to see Dean get into trouble (that's how I roll). I'm super curious how Sam and Cas would handle that. Who's the sterner parent? (I think I can guess) but would be fun to see."
> 
> This is my response to that! I hope you love the chapter :)
> 
> Also, this is a kickoff to the school year, today was my first day, and here's to hoping that if you have already started, or will be starting soon, that your school year turns out great :)

When Dean reached his third birthday some switch flipped and their usually easy going little boy - who occasionally got a little grumpy - became quite the demanding little shit. 

It was little things at first, like how he was only going to wear a _certain_ pair of socks, despite the fact that they were dirty and mismatched. And _No_ Papa, he's not going to wait for them to be washed or wear another pair. 

Then it was how he seemed to take offense to any of his sippy cups, and how he was only going to drink his milk and juice from a big boy glass and straw, despite the fact that Dean hadn't mastered the act of holding a cup without the drink sloshing down the front of his shirt. 

It had developed from there though, and the little toddler who had been so instinctively polite to his daddies was turning into quite the nightmare. 

"Doesn't want this."

Cas held back the overtired sigh that threatened to escape and turned away from the stove to spy Dean sitting at the counter. In an effort to keep from creating a monstrous child who believed that with tears and tantrums that he could get whatever he would like Cas and Sam had agreed to feed Dean what they were eating for dinner for the night, and not his usual mac and cheese that he had been demanding recently.

Instead of arguing with Dean about his lack of manners Cas has to point out the first thing he notices.

"Dean Michael, why aren't you sitting in your chair?"

As opposed to sitting in the child friendly chair that he and Sam had bought for Dean months ago when the little boy started sitting at the counter in the kitchen more and more often, he was sitting in one of the regular stools. 

It would have been fine had Dean been a little bigger for his size, but he wasn't, and those stools were tall, tall enough so that Sam could sit at them comfortably without his legs being bent at odd angles. They've already had one instance where Dean has toppled off the stools, it's why they went out and made their purchase, and Cas isn't about to repeat it.

"Don' like it," Dean says around his soother as he sits up on his knees and leans forward to the counter.

Cas ignores the pot he was adding eggs to - hard boiling them, for Sam - and he goes to scoop Dean out of the chair.

"Dean, I've already told you _twice today_ that when you sit at the counter you have to sit in the Dean chair."

It's a special chair, Dean is able to get in it himself in and out of it, and it doesn't look any different from their other bar stools, but the only difference is the arm rests on either side, it keeps Dean from falling off. Dean has shown a great amount of displeasure in it though, as he has noticed that Papa and Daddy don't sit in chairs with arm rests, and lately it's all been about being like his daddies.

"Don' like it."

"Well that's too bad, cause Papa doesn't like it when his little cherry bruises his head," Cas promptly drops him into the three sided stool and slides the plate of food in front of Dean.

"Now eat up, Daddy'll be home late, so you don't have to wait for him."

By any other three year old's standards Dean's dinner is pretty kick ass. He's got some homemade chicken nuggets - Cas has become quite the chef in the kitchen since they adopted Dean - that he had baked along with the chicken breasts that he and Sam would eat later, a handful of grapes, and some green beans that Cas mixed with the smallest hint of honey in his hopes that Dean will eat healthy. 

But Dean scrunches his face up at the dish.

"No."

"Dean, I've already told you that you can't have mac and cheese for dinner every night, now eat."

Cas sounds irritated because he is. So far today Dean's thrown up a fuss over everything. Breakfast, lunch, nap time, his toys, what juice he's been given, the clothes Cas dressed him in, the commercials on the TV programs he let's Dean watch, Cas vacuuming while Dean was playing with Raphael. It's been _everything_. And while Dean has backed down quick enough when Cas got stern with him the constant pestering from his son is wearing him down, and fast.

He's afraid that Dean might not reach bath time without some kind of punishment.

Sure enough Cas turns his back to his grumpy little boy to continue his task and he hears the distinct _smash_ that he knows means that he just lost one of his plates.

Barely concealed frustration simmering inside of him Cas turns around to and irate three year old, _standing_ at his bar stool, his little arms crossed and the smashed remains of his dinner and Cas' kitchenware at the floor near his chair.

"Dean said no!" He says stomping his foot, he takes out his soother and tosses it. It's a signature Dean move when he's angry.

Cas is sure to take a deep breath, he isn't sure if he can do this and remain calm, but he's going to try. 

"That's fine."

He turns off the stove, in case he forgets it, and walks over to pick Dean off of the chair. 

Cas knows his little boy is pissed when he refuses to curl himself around his Papa, and Cas is left holding Dean under his arm pits and marching him toward the dinning room. 

"NO!" Dean shrieks as he kicks out into the open air. "I wan' mac an' cheeeese!"

Cas ignores the cries and kicks for now, and instead walks Dean over to the cozy miniature sized arm chair they bought for Dean a few months back when it became apparent that he would need a designated 'time out' chair. 

They wanted something warm and comfortable. Something that when Dean was sat in it he still felt love, nothing like a hard bench that would make the time out seem more punishment, and less of the cool down that it really is. 

Cas sits Dean down in his chair, and grabs the plush blanket that they keep alongside it and tosses it over Dean's head. 

They felt the blanket was a nice addition, since it would allow Dean to swaddle himself if he needed the extra comfort in order to calm down.

Dean isn't about to laugh at being hidden though, and instead he rips the blanket off his head and stares murderous eyes at his Papa.

"Dean," Cas begins as he crouches down. 

"No!"

"Dean, I'm going to have you sit in the cool down chair for three minutes," they don't want to call it time out and have Dean feel negatively about it, "we can talk when you're done okay?"

"No!" Dean grabs his blanket and hops off the chair, making to run from the dinning room and away from Cas.

Cas is faster though, and he's able to snag Dean and pull him back.

His little boy is squirmy though, and he's grunting out his frustrations, in the chaos of Cas trying to wrangle in their child Dean's little elbow gets a lucky shot at Cas' eye and he bites out a sharp curse as he slaps a hand over it.

"Dean Michael, that is enough! You do not disrespect Papa like that, and you do not hit," he swats Dean's butt enough so that the boy feels it, but not nearly hard enough to make the pain last longer than a second. And yes, Cas realizes the the hypocrisy between his words and actions, but there's a _difference_ , or so he thinks. 

He wants Dean to know that he's serious, but he doesn't want a little boy who's afraid of him.

When Cas sets him in his chair he can see that Dean feels guilty at having hurt his Papa, but just _barely_.

"Now I want you to stay in your chair, I will come back in three minutes, and if you've calmed down by then we'll talk and you can finish your dinner."

He reaches up to a shelf that houses the specialty timer that they bought for this purpose. It looks like a little lighthouse and the top part twists so that you can get an arrow pointed at a certain number. When the timer is activated all of the lights turn on, including the one at the top, as the timer counts down, the lights go out, and when the timer is finished the light at the top turns off. 

It'll emit a few beeps at the end so that Cas will know when to come back, but they felt like the timer would be good for Dean. Something for him to focus his attention on and to lose whatever sharp edge of rebellious _something_ that got him in trouble in the first place. 

Cas sets the timer and leaves it on the edge of the dinning room table where Dean can see it before he walks out of the room. 

The dinning room cool down chair has worked numerous times before. The seclusion, mixed with comfort, mixed with a mild stimulus has worked to soothe Dean perfectly, time and time again. Cas just hopes it'll work out again this time around.

While Dean finishes his, okay he'll be honest, it's a freaking time out at this point, Cas ducks into the bathroom to spy the damage his son caused. 

He pokes at his eye in the mirror, and while it's only sore and a little puffy at the moment Cas has no doubts that he'll be sporting bruises by the time Sam comes home. 

Dean got him good.

With a minute or two to spare Cas finishes adding the eggs to the pot on the stove, and turns the heat up half way. It won't boil over while he's waiting on Dean, so he walks back out and waits out of sight by the dinning room.

He can't see or hear Dean, and that doesn't necessarily mean anything bad or good, but he'll find out in about thirty seconds. 

The chime for Dean's timer goes off, and Cas waits a beat before walking inside, it's important that Dean learns that just because the timer goes off he can't leave, he still has to talk it through with Papa and be given the all clear before he's considered 'cooled off' and allowed to leave. 

It's difficult, but Cas manages to not look at Dean in his chair as he grabs the timer, it's hard each time he has to do this, but he wants to give Dean the few extra seconds to compose himself. 

This time, after he's put the timer back up on it's shelf and turned around, Dean has his blanket wrapped around himself, head to toe, and he's laid out sideways over the little chair. 

He looks like a mummy.

Cas sits on the floor directly before Dean, and - now that he's had time away from his monster - he's able to smile. 

Cas doesn't think Dean realizes it, but cooling off isn't just for little boys, sometimes daddies need a little time out too.

It's great for everyone's mood.

He decides to see if Dean has decided to hop on the good mood wagon and starts to tease his little boy. 

"Where's my Dean at?" he wiggles his fingers along what he believes to be Dean's tummy.

Dean responds with an ear-splitting "NO!" and wrenches himself around on the chair. He's still totally covered, but he's gone from ramrod straight into a tiny little ball.

It seems Dean hasn't cooled off yet.

"Dean, are you ready to come out?"

He thinks Dean is pissed, and is enforcing his own time out by hiding under the blanket. Another reason they decided to go with it, if Dean wasn't ready to cool off he could literally hide himself away.

He doesn't get a response, so he knows Dean's answer.

"Okay, I'll come back to check on you in a little bit, let me know when I can have my Dean back."

Cas goes back to the kitchen to finish Sam's eggs and prepare the salad for his and Sam's dinner after he cleans up the mess that Dean had made of his. He figures that when Dean decides he's hungry for the night - which he _will_ \- that Dean can eat some jelly on toast. And if he's still hungry he can have green beans. 

He isn't worried about Dean starving, but Cas wants to teach Dean that if he disrespects Papa by making a mess of his food that he won't get high quality meals. It'll teach Dean real quick not to complain about dinner.

He checks on Dean three times while he's doing this, but each time he's met with a sour little boy, hidden beneath his blanket.

Cas is just plating up his and Sam's dinner - and Dean's been in the chair for twenty minutes, despite Cas' frequent checking - when he hears the garage door going up.

Sam was a little late today because a client was coming in to discuss details about a case, it's why Cas had given Dean the green light to eat his dinner, but tonight it looks like Dean's eating late.

Sam comes in from the garage and he hears the tell-tale _thump_ of him placing his things on the dryer before Sam's swarming the kitchen.

"Hey baby," Sam greets him with a kiss, "sorry I was late, were you waiting long?" 

Sam's gesturing to the dinner that Cas has just set out on the counter. 

"Nah, just got finished."

Sam hums as he walks to the other side of the counter and starts eating before he sits down.

"Did you skip lunch today?"

He can tell by his husband's enthusiastic eating that the answer is yes.

"Had to, didn't have the time to eat between meetings."

Cas rolls his eyes and puts out their drinks - the older they get the more he can appreciate how different wines _do_ go better with different meats - and decides to check on Dean before he eats.

He walks into the dinning room and Dean's still mummified in his blanket. 

"Sweetheart," Cas stoops low to brush a hand over his, head? "Are you cooled off?"

He feels the head shake under his palm. 

"That's okay, Papa will give you more time, but Daddy's home, and we're going to eat dinner, so Papa won't be in to check on you for a little while, so are you sure?"

Dean shakes his head yes this time.

Damn, he had been hoping that the thoughts of food and Daddy would convince Dean to end his self imposed solitude and come out. 

But if he's sure…

Cas heads back into the kitchen and starts in on his own meal. 

"Why is Dean in cool down?"

Sam's question makes Cas feel like their son is a nuclear reactor gone rogue, and not a toddler with a need for discipline.

"He decided not to eat the dinner I made for him, and pushed it off the counter as he _stood_ on one of our stools. Then, he elbowed me in the eye as I was trying to put him on his chair."

Sam reached up for Cas' chin and moved his face to glimpse his eye better. 

"Damn, he really did get you. I'm surprised I didn't notice."

"You were thinking with your stomach at the time."

"Still," Sam turns to his food, "don't you think he's been in there a little long? Even for what he did?"

Cas can't help but roll his eyes, in their parenting dynamic Sam is totally the caver. He's the one who always tries to find ways to weasel Dean from his punishments, freaking lawyers. 

But Cas doesn't mind being the bad guy, he knows Dean won't be mad at him forever.

"Hey, I wanted to take him out after three minutes, he's the one who wants to stay there."

Sam frowns at that, but they keep eating.

After dinner Cas checks on Dean again, still not ready, so he tells Dean that he won't be coming in any more, and that when Dean's ready to come out to find his Papa so that they can talk. 

He's been in his chair for over half an hour, and Cas won't let it continue. After he and Sam catch an episode of the Big Bang Theory he'll walk in and grab Dean, blanket and all, and cuddle him on the couch until he's ready, that's if he hasn't surfaced by that time.

So they clean up the kitchen, and Sam heads upstairs to change into his pajamas. Cas is sipping on a second - smaller - glass of wine as he wipes off around the stove when he hears feet approaching. Very, very light feet.

He turns to see Dean standing in the entryway to the kitchen, everything covered by the blanket except for his face. 

"Hey sweetheart," Cas ditches the rag and his glass, "are you all cooled off?"

Dean nods, and a few tears escape as he looks up to his Papa.

"Are you hungry?"

Dean nods again, so Cas goes about and makes a quick dinner of peanut butter and jelly on toast - the tears have him convinced that no peanut butter would be torturous - and he slices up half a banana to go along with it since he and Sam had eaten all the green beans. 

He sets the plate of food before Dean's stool and plops Dean down before it. 

He's a little hesitant, but he eats his food all the same. 

Sam comes in as Cas sets down a sippy cup of milk for Dean, and they talk quietly as Dean eats.

When all remaining food is gone from Dean's plate Sam grabs it, and Cas grabs Dean before walking out to the living room to talk with him.

He makes sure to cuddle him close and run his fingers through his soft hair.

"Do you remember why you needed time to cool off?"

Dean nods as he plays with the ends of his blanket.

"Can you tell me using your words?"

"Wasn't nice," his words come out a little wobbly. 

"And what weren't you nice about?"

"Dinner."

"And?"

"Hit Papa."

"And?"

"Broke stuff."

"That's right. Is there anything you'd like to say about all that not nice stuff?"

He hears Dean sniffle before he sees the tears, "Sorry Papa."

Dean's crying kills Cas, so he holds Dean extra close and presses kisses over his head. "It's okay my sweet boy, I'm not mad. My little Cherry Pie was in the oven too long and got hot, didn't it?"

"Yeah," he croaks into Cas' neck.

He waits until a majority of the sniffles subsides and he pulls Dean back, thumbing away the evidence of tears. 

"Okay. So the next time Papa asks you to sit in your chair, or to eat dinner? What is Dean going to do?"

Dean sighs, while he might be feeling bad he's still a little boy who is stubborn and wants to refuse the evidence that he has done wrong.

"Listen."

"That's right."

"I'm really sorry Papa," Dean tries apologizing again, but Cas won't let him dwell on it.

"You're already forgiven, how about we get Daddy to make some popcorn and we watch a little TV before bed, yeah?"

Dean nods smiling, likely happy over the promise of an after dinner snack. 

Cas can't help but be a little soft when it comes to Dean, but have you seen him? Have you personally witnessed the cute that terrorizes Cas in his own household? 

He stands up to carry Dean into the kitchen - where he already hears his eavesdropping husband opening a package of popcorn - and Dean finally curls into him.

Disciplining Dean is tough, but when it results in Dean snuggles, it's totally worth it.


	6. Homestyle Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean makes breakfast for Cas on his Papa's 40th birthday.

At some point Sam should probably start treating his son like the kid he is, as opposed to the baby he remembers, but it's hard when Dean really could use the help.

"Now be careful Sweetheart," he reminds Dean, for about the fifth time.

"I know Dad."

Sam smiles at Dean's stubborn reply. He's eight, and already showing a streak of independence that's bound to drive both his daddies crazy.

The current task at hand that Dean has convinced himself that he's capable of, is making breakfast for Cas' birthday. 

He's forty today. A fact that Cas is grateful for. 

Birthday's are special for their family. They've never had the mindset of weariness at getting older. It's always been an excitement at the gift of living another year, since not everyone is given the chance to even reach forty. 

So Dean has pulled up a chair and is kneeling in front of the stove, Cas' grilling apron thrown on and his pajama sleeves rolled up as he worked his spatula through the crusted gunk of burned/fried egg he has in the skillet. 

Sam hasn't been allowed to help with _anything_. From getting out the supplies, to mixing the pancake mix, to cracking the eggs - Sam is positive that there are some shell shards in there - Dean has done it all on his own. 

He's already called his mother in secret and asked her to make a replacement breakfast for Cas to scarf down when they get to his parents' house in a few hours. He doesn't want Dean to know about it, their boy would be crushed at the blow to his cooking skills, but he know that Cas is going to need something to make up for this breakfast that Dean is preparing.

Sam grimaces when Dean's spatula gives a jerk and wet chunks of fried egg splatter across the microwave hanging above the stove. He's grateful that he woke up and made breakfast on his own before Dean got up, because he is _not_ eating that. 

He's also terribly worried how Cas is going to stomach the bites it will take to appease Dean. 

Sam hears Dean mutter an "Oops" as he tries to maneuver the fried egg bits onto the plate - which patiently waits with burned bacon and undercooked pancakes - and Sam has to smack a hand to his forehead to keep from reaching out. Cause Dean has already made it known that he doesn't need any help.

Clearly.

Half the fried egg makes it onto the plate, and the other half falls under the grill of the stove which the pan sits on. 

Dean makes to shove the _plastic_ spatula after it while the flame is still going. 

Now he has a good reason to step in.

"Hold on there Cowboy, you don't want to melt that," Sam reaches around his son and flips the stove off, pulling the pan out of the way and using his fingers to pull the bits of hot egg off of the stove to put on Cas' plate.

Usually if their food drops onto the stove they toss it, but Sam can't imagine that the stovetop has made the food _worse_ than it already is.

Sam's arms reach out on either side of Dean's head, who is still kneeling in the chair and is watching his younger father work. 

Sam is hoping that now that he's gained an inch with the boy that he can push it to a few yards.

"Can you go pour some orange juice and coffee for Papa, Dean?"

The coffee grabs Dean's attention, he's usually not trusted with a carafe full of hot coffee.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's a special day all around."

"Okay, I got it."

Dean scrambles off the chair and marches over to the fridge first.

With Dean's back turned Sam looks at the plate and tries to figure out what he can do to improve it. 

He pulls out a paper towel and slaps the pancakes onto it, there's only two - Dean spilt most of the batter - so he's hoping a minute in the microwave is enough to cook them through most of the way. He pops them in and sends them spinning.

The bacon isn't too bad, sure, it's burnt to hell, but there isn't much Sam can do about that, other than dumping it into the trash, and Dean would definitely notice. 

So he turns his attention to the disastrous fried egg. 

It's so gross looking that Sam can't even begin to humor Dean with his cooking, but he's trying his best. They started teaching Dean small things about cooking a few months ago because they think it's important for him to learn such a valuable life skill. Starting young ensures that he won't develop bad cooking habits, but now Sam is wishing that they would have started sooner.

Sam starts by pulling out the pieces of egg that had been stuck to the bottom of the pan and burnt. They're the tasteless bits that you never want to eat anyways. It helps the look of the eggs, but not enough.

He can hear Dean pulling out the coffee cup from the cabinet just behind him, so he knows he only has about another minute to fix the breakfast without Dean seeing his meddling. 

_Knowing_ it's disgusting, but overlooking it since he knows he has clean hands, he digs his fingers into the eggtastrophe and feels around for the shell shards that he knows are there. 

He's found two and pulled them out successively when he hears the microwave ding just as Dean is sliding the carafe back in place. 

Before Dean can turn back around and see him Sam wipes off his hands and pulls the pancakes out of the microwave, dropping them onto the plate and balling up the paper towel just as Dean walks back with the drinks. 

He's so glad that at eight Dean gets tunnel vision and can't pay attention to anything beyond what he's doing. 

"It looks good," Sam says as Dean places the drinks down. "kind of makes me wish I hadn't ate before you woke up."

He drops a hand onto Dean's shoulder, and that's when he notices how upset his son looks. 

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

Dean just shrugs and pokes at the plate. 

"It doesn't look like the breakfast that Grama always makes."

Crap. Dean knows that his cooking isn't that great, he probably felt poorly about his efforts this entire time, and with Sam's constant pestering… his confidence in the breakfast for his Papa has to be non-existent. 

Wow, he's a dick. 

"Are you kidding? This looks just like Grama's breakfast. Sam crouches down a bit to pick Dean up and pop him on his hip like he did back when Dean was much smaller - despite the fact that his son is _still_ small for his age. "Grama likes to call her breakfast homestyle. You know what that means?"

"No."

"It means it ain't pretty, but it sure is delicious."

And without giving it more thought than knowing how it will make his son feel Sam grabs the fork scoops up a good amount of egg and takes a bite.

Dean put in a great deal more salt than necessary, and Sam has to fight his lips' natural instinct to pucker and spit the food out, but somehow he's able to manage it. 

"See?" Sam croaks, "delicious."

When Dean is smiling again like he should Sam sets him down and Dean snatches the plate up right away. 

"Can you bring the drinks?"

Dean starts walking off to the master bedroom - which is still upstairs, though being a split level ranch means that Dean only has to go up four steps. 

Sam makes an affirmative noise and grabs his own discarded coffee cup, downing the rest of the contents in order to wash away the remaining taste of Dean's breakfast. 

He really hopes that Cas will have enough juice to compensate as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made a bit of a change to the location of their house. And when I say that, I mean that they moved. 
> 
> Sam told me the other day that having a child in his life has turned him off to the more urban lifestyle, and informed me that around Dean's fifth birthday that they moved into an old farmhouse just down the road from where his parents live. 
> 
> He also said that at the same time he sold his half of the firm to his partner Brady, and that he took up a much smaller job opening in town as a bank lawyer. He said he's been very happy with the move and the fact that he gets to spend more time with Dean. 
> 
> Apparently he and Cas decided life would be easier a little closer to family when Dean started kindergarten and that Henry and Mary enjoy taking turns at picking him up at the elementary school in the afternoons. 
> 
> Cas has also taken up a job as a freelance Graphic Designer and he said that he spends a few hours a day working on creating websites or making logos for small companies. He says he's okay with doing brochures and pamphlets, but said he doesn't have as much fun with them. 
> 
> The rest of Cas' day is spent outside. Apparently living on a farm means that Cas was able to convince Sam to get some animals, so they have some chickens and bees. 
> 
> Dean really wants goats for some strange reason and Sam claims that he's really close to caving ever since Dean learned his own version of puppy dog eyes. 
> 
>  
> 
> Now everyone Say: "Thank you, Sam" for the kind update that he decided to share with everyone!


	7. "I'm thinking pink"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not too heavy on Baby Dean, but Sam does mess up, and Cas does get pretty pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and in case you forgot and/or didn't read it, Esteban = the black dildo Cas uses when Sam is unavailable to him. 
> 
> *There is no sex, whatsoever in this chapter btdubs. 
> 
> I have no fracken clue where this story came from, but I enjoyed the hell out of writing it!

It’s a few months after Dean's second birthday that Sam wakes up and just _knows_ that he is in for a rough day. 

He groans as he sits up from bed, holding the side of his head, which is full of pressure - and what feels like a dozen angry bees. The morning alarm is blaring behind him, and he's forgotten to turn it off as he stumbles into the bathroom to get ready. He does his disgruntled husband behind him snark out something at his back, as Cas is forced to roll across the bed and slap at the alarm to get it to shut off.

Sam can't focus on his husband though, he's too busy walking up to the toilet and praying that he aims right to pay any attention to Cas. He slips himself out of his shorts and feels a wave of dizziness roll into him. 

"Whoa," he throws out his hands to steady himself, and instead decides to sit and pee. 

His head is still thumping and he holds it in his hands, which he props up on his knees. 

Sam doesn't get sick often, but he thinks the pressure in his head is the beginning of a nasty cold. He hopes that taking some decongestants and vitamins will keep him from feeling it full force. 

If he can just get the motivation to get off of the toilet. 

The pressure is building up behind his eyes, and at the base of his spine. He's regretting getting out of bed, as he now just wants to cozy up to his husband and sleep. 

He groans out loud and thinks he's imagining the fingers massaging their way across his scalp and neck until Cas takes a step closer and bumps against Sam's forehead. 

"You okay?" 

Sam shakes his head instead of answering, and regrets the movement. 

"Alright, I'm calling Andrea."

He feels Cas step away. 

In the quiet of the bathroom Sam lacks the motivation to get up and move. 

Some time later Sam hears soft feet, and their presence immediately makes him smile. He's still on the toilet, boxers around his ankles and elbows on his knees, but that doesn't deter Dean from stepping right on up to his Daddy and making room for himself on Sam's lap. 

Sam can't help but keep his eyes closed to fight off the possibility of dizziness, but he does move to make way for Dean's little arms and legs. He can feel boney little knees high on his thighs and skinny little arms wrapping around his neck. 

"Hi Daddy."

"Hi baby."

Sam slips his own arms around Dean's back and holds his boy close. 

"Did my baby come to see me?" Sam slips his eyes open to spy his son.

At two years old he's got a head full of fine, baby soft blonde hair. It's thick and likes to stick up despite Cas' best attempts to comb it flat. His little face has also been sprouting caramel colored freckles across his nose and cheeks. With his babe's candy green eyes Dean has quickly turned into his Daddy and Papa's caramel apple, and he's just as sweet. 

At the moment Dean is wearing his soft blue footie pajamas. His hair is straight-from-the-bed fluffy, and he's sucking on his soother quietly as he tries to wake up. 

Dean nods to his Daddy's question, and Sam presses a kiss to Dean's forehead. 

Sam's head still feels uncomfortably full, and he's working his jaw to try and pop his ears… but as he moves his hand down to Dean's diaper he can feel the soft fullness of a wet diaper. Cas is likely still downstairs calling Andrea, so Sam is willing to bet Dean woke up on his own and came to the first of his daddies he could find. So despite Sam's personal discomfort he stands and rights his boxers, he has a baby to change. 

Sam carries Dean into their bedroom and sets his sleepy babe on their bed.

"Daddy?"

"Yes baby?" Sam asks as he meanders over to the dresser which always holds supplies for Dean. 

"Is early."

Sam smiles as he turns and looks at his little boy who has rolled around on the bed to snuggle up to Sam's pillow. 

"If it's so early then what are you doing out of bed?"

Dean shrugs and yawns and Sam rolls him onto his back again. The movement causes Dean's pacifier to fall out, but since his baby doesn't cry Sam continues with his task. 

Dean's easily moved around on the bed as Sam unsnaps his suit to get at his legs and diaper. His baby is too busy fiddling with his pacifier to pay him much attention. 

Sam has the diaper changed long before he's too dizzy to keep standing, and instead of scooping his boy and trekking downstairs like Sam would usually do on weekday mornings Sam pulls the covers down and snuggles in for a late morning with his boy. 

Sam's half on his back and side with Dean curled up on his chest. Dean has one arm thrown around his Daddy's neck, and the other is planted firmly over Sam's face. His little fingers pinching at Sam's nose. 

Sam is nearly asleep by the time Cas comes back up from calling his secretary. 

He can tell that his husband is back in the room by the dip he feels in the mattress. "I let her know that you wouldn't be coming in today," he whispers as he runs his fingers through Sam's hair. "I'm going to run downstairs and get you some pills for your head."

Sam opens his eyes and glances as Cas as he sighs and swipes a hand over his face. "I should probably cancel my appointment today."

_Shit._

Sam forgot about Cas' plans. He was meeting with a counselor at Dominican University to talk about the possibility of him earning a degree in Marketing to couple with his degree in Graphic Design. Sam was torn about agreeing with Cas, cause Sam would love nothing more than to have his husband around to get drinks and rub his neck, but he also knew that it had been difficult for Cas to find time for this appointment. 

"No," Sam murmured, shifting so he was on his back, "go to your appointment, I'll be okay."

Cas chuckled, "alright, I've got to leave in about an hour, so that'll give Dean some time to sleep in I guess."

"What?"

"Well, I was planning on bringing him with."

"Why?"

"Because you were supposed to be at work today, and your parents are up visiting your brother. Dean was always going to be coming with me."

"To a college campus?"

"I told them ahead of time I'd be bringing a monster," Cas says as Sam looks down at their sleepy babe - Dean's eyes are peeked open, and he's staring at his daddies - "they said that it was fine. Said plenty of returning students brought kids in. It's not like I'm sitting in on a class, Sammy. We're just talking about classes, and transfer credits, and tuition assistance."

"Cassie, I'm not sure Dean would like that."

"Well I don't think he will either," Cas says as he stands, "but I'm sure he'll live through the boredom of a long meeting with his Papa"

Sam watches Cas step into the bathroom. He hears the sink run for a second before Cas is coming back with a damp hand towel. 

"Well, I think he'd like a quiet day with Daddy better," Sam mutters as Cas places the cool towel over his forehead.

"I'm sure he would."

"So then leave him home."

"Sam, do you really want to stay at home with that adorable little monster when you aren't feeling well enough to stand?" Cas punctuates his point by massaging his fingers over Sam's scalp and he feels himself relax into the mattress.

"I'd appreciate the show of support. You've stayed at home with him before when you were hurt, I think I can handle a tension headache."

"Yes, I did. And you also had people stopping in to check on me and offer help."

"Ah," Sam slips the towel up his head to look at Cas, "so you admit you needed help."

Cas doesn't answer, and instead shoots Sam a look that says, _"You're damn right I needed that help, but you're insane if you think I'd ever admit it."_

"I think I'd feel better taking him with."

"And I think you'd have a better day without him."

Cas shakes his head and stands up. Sam can see his thoughts swirling, taking in the sight of Dean curled up on his Daddy on the big bed, and oh so cozy that he might fall back asleep.

"You know what? Fine." 

Cas throws up his arms and begins grabbing clothes. 

"I'll leave you in charge. Breakfast. Dishes." 

He throws on a shirt and tugs on some pants after shirking his pajamas. 

"Lunch. Naptime. You can have it all. I'll go out, enjoy adult conversations with academic elites. Make some plans to spend your hard earned money. And at the end of the day," Cas steps back up to the top of the bed, "I'll be here to pick up the pieces of my home and boys. Sound good?"

Sam frowns. "Why does that sound like a challenge?"

"Because it is baby, it is."

*****

"Dean? Dean? Where did you get off to?"

Sam's walking around the first floor, trying to find the toddler that he inexplicably lost. 

Their morning had been going, well, it had been going. Sam wasn't about to say it had been going _well_ , because he couldn't even voice that lie to himself. 

Cas had left earlier than necessary to get a nice breakfast all on his own in a fancy, organic restaurant that he and Sam enjoyed eating at downtown. He left without making breakfast though, so it had been up to Sam to feed the monster. 

Sam's headache and dizziness hadn't faded, so he had been forced to make scrambled eggs for Dean while massaging his sore temples. 

Dean, however, hadn't _wanted_ eggs, _or_ Daddy. No. He had proceeded to screech-cry throughout breakfast and wave his fork about menacingly. 

His hiccupping cries making way for little chirrups of "Ah? Ah?"

Sam tried to not take the demands for Dean's older father too personally, he logically knew that Dean had a stronger, or perhaps, more intimate relationship with Cas, which made sense seeing as Dean's Papa was at home with him all day. 

Unfortunately for Sam, Dean's cries had made his headache stronger, pushing it towards a migraine. Sam had lost his appetite for anything but juice, and had actually become so nauseous while trying to shovel eggs into Dean's mouth that he had to run to the garbage can in the kitchen to throw up. 

Sam had eventually called breakfast a failure and made a piece of toast with a bit of nutella to appease his screeching boy. 

Soon enough, Sam found himself flat on the couch, playing glorified table to a two year old who wanted to wander about the family room in his jammies. Dean had been walking around with Raphael under his arm, babbling to himself as he touched his chocolate covered fingers all over Cas' clean house. He occasionally visited his ill-feeling father, as Dean had decided that Sam's chest made the perfect place for him to leave his toast. 

Sam kept a cupped hand over his eyes, and would look out every few minutes to spy his babe, toddling around. Despite how crummy he felt, Sam would smile when Dean came over to take another bite of toast. 

His boy was cute.

Before he knew what was happening though, Sam's eyes had closed. And stayed closed. 

Now, it was half an hour later, and Sam was fearing the things Dean had been able to get into in thirty minutes.

Sam had checked the downstairs bathroom, office, and kitchen. All of the doors outside were locked - not that Dean was tall enough to reach the handles anyway - so Sam was rushing up the stairs to find where Dean had scampered off to. 

"Headache's gone just in time," he snarked out to himself. Which was just fantastic, because he could already feel a new one forming. 

Sam knew he was on the right trail, as he could see little brown spots dotting the carpet, they looked just like nutella fingers. 

At the top of the stairs Sam could hear a repetitive slapping noise coming from the master bedroom, so he followed it.

He reached the doorway and froze at the sight that greeted him. 

Sam's eyes tracked the damage in the room beginning with the bed. 

All of the sheets and pillows were thrown on the floor off the end. Strips of their comforter were lying about the room like bits of shredded confetti, and in the midst of a large, two-foot hole in the fabric was Sam's battery operated beard trimmer - though by the looks of the frayed threads entangled in the plastic guard of the trimmer Sam was in the market for a new one.

Trailing from the edge of the comforter is a giant, wet, glob of shiny fluids. Sam thinks it might be water - or pee - but it isn't until Sam sees the empty lube bottle at the bottom of the dresser does he know what it is. 

Sam slaps a hand over his mouth as he sees the smeared lube all along the front of the dresser, going as high up as little arms can reach. 

Dean had very clearly gotten into Sam's nightstand.

Speaking of Dean, the slapping noise that drew Sam's attention in the first place is the sound of little feet, jumping up and down repeatedly from atop the dresser which stands four feet tall. Dean's got his hands thrown up, one slippery fist closed around a shiny looking stuffed turtle and the other closed around --

"Dean!"

Sam rushes forward to scoop Dean off of the dresser and rips the black rubber object out of Dean's hand. He's tossed it on the bed and is walking out of the room before Dean can wrap his head around the fact that Daddy has found him, and is pissed. 

"Daddee! NO!" Dean starts screeching 

"Dean Michael, what on _Earth_ makes you think that was okay!"

Sam watches his little boy startle and look up to him. His little eyes look frightened and his bottom lip curls out as he begins to pout.

"No, you aren't going to cute your way out of this one Mister, Papa and Daddy do _not_ allow that kind of behavior."

Sam walks Dean into his nursery and drops him down onto his changing pad. Dean's pissed that his Daddy has cut his crazy Dean-party short, and squirms around on the pad as Sam divests him of his lube-covered clothes. 

"I can't believe you got into Daddy's dresser. I'm very disappointed in you Mister." 

Dean's eyes glaze over and he starts crying. Long, suffering cries. Sam would normally try and cuddle (read coddle) Dean until the cries stopped, but he's too tired to try calming his boy at the moment. Dean deserves a good spanking, and had he been a little older Sam thinks he might have given Dean a good spank or two. 

"I think you need a nap." 

Sam redresses Dean in some clean pajamas and deposits him in his crib, Dean stands right up and tries climbing out - something that he frequently does, and they _really_ need to get him a bed - but when Sam reaches down and gives a pat to his ass Dean's escape attempt comes to a halt and he plops down. 

Dean's still crying to high heaven, but Sam leaves him in his crib. There's a small collection of stuffed animals and blankets in Dean's crib, so Sam leaves Dean to self-soothe - something that he needs to make Dean do more often. 

Sam marches back into their bedroom, and he's tired and angry. Not at Dean, but himself. A year and a half ago, back when they were still struggling their way through the new boundaries of this parenting thing, Cas had been injured to the point of being incapacitated, and yet he'd never failed in watching Dean. Here Sam is now, when they're starting to get good at this parenting gig, and he falls asleep at the wheel because of a _headache_. 

Back in the bedroom Sam bundles up the comforter, leaving the destroyed trimmer in the middle as he rolls 

That's when he catches a whiff of lavender and markers?

Sam looks down to reassess his carpet. He sees the smeared lube, he's seen that already. Dreading what he's going to find he walks towards the bathroom door and peeks around the corner. He feels his heart fall out of his chest, because he's fucked now, he can't hide this from Cas anymore. 

*****

Cas has had a wonderful day. 

To be honest, he hadn't been that fond of the idea of taking Dean with him to his appointment on campus, but he really wasn't about to leave Dean with Sam when his husband wasn't feeling well. 

At least, he hadn't planned on it until Sam made that comment about Cas needing help when he had been hurt after that incident with John. For some reason that had really ruffled Cas' feathers, so he left his son with Sam for the day. He was expecting to come home to either a crying Dean, or a crying Sam. It wasn't that Cas didn't have confidence in his husband, he did, it's just that Sam seemed to have a tendency to let Dean's cuteness override Sam's ability to discipline their son. Cas had learned to build up a tolerance to Dean's cuteness and was able to discipline their son accordingly, whereas Sam was more likely to coddle Dean the minute he piped up with tears. 

Cas brought a take out lunch as he pulled into the driveway. They didn't eat take out like this very often - drive-thru burgers and soda, with chicken nuggets for Dean - but Cas felt like there were certain days that called for bad food.

He parked his car and retrieved his bags and the drink holder. He had put his straw in his drink, so Cas dropped the paper straw sleeve into the garbage can - and consequently saw a bundle of fabric which looked surprisingly like the comforter from their bed. 

"Oh good lord, what did you two get up to."

Cas is shaking his head as he walks into the house. He almost doesn't want to know what happened, but curiosity killed the Cas.

The kitchen and downstairs are empty of both boys, but as Cas drops the food on the coffee table in the living room he can see proof that Dean had been in the room at some point. 

Cas hardly ever gives Dean nutella, as he hates cleaning up the sticky chocolate fingerprints, but Sam will often give Dean a small spoonful if Dean starts to cry.

Apparently Dean had been crying at some point, because the pictures and knick-knacks that are at Dean level has a dark chocolatey sheen to them. 

He's got to leave the messy nutella fingers for later, as he still had to find what happened to his boys. He goes upstairs where he turns into Dean's room first. Dean's asleep in the crib, holding tightly onto his blanket and one of the stuffed animals who falls second favorite to Raphael. 

There are dried tear tracks on his cheeks, but he's sleeping soundly, sucking on his soother. So Cas runs a knuckle over one cheek and doesn't worry too much.

That changes however, when Cas walks into the master. 

The bed is stripped of the comforter - as Cas had suspected earlier - and the carpet is wet all around the foot of the bed. 

He's momentarily stunned until he hears sound coming from the bathroom. Cas side-steps the wet carpet and stands in the doorway to see Sam on his hands and knees, scrubbing at a line of permanent marker that stretches all across Cas' clean tile floor.

"Oh. My. God."

Sam's head snaps up and Cas can see his husband visibly shrink away from him.

"Cassie, I can explain," Sam's on his knees in the middle of a masterpiece, Dean's masterpiece. Apparently their young boy got into their collection of sharpies downstairs and decided to draw all over the clean bathroom. 

It seems an all white bathroom wasn't a good idea with a toddler in the house. 

There's green, blue and black sharpie marks all over the walls and floor. Dean tried his hand at drawing stick figures across the front of the bathroom cabinets, or so Cas guessed, and little blobs and splotches were spattered across the toilet base, and lid, the wainscoting 

"No, I think I got it. You fell asleep and Dean got into the markers?"

Sam was sitting on his heels and ringing a hand towel with his fingers, "he - uh, he may have destroyed the comforter."

"I saw that outside."

"He also ruined my shaver."

"On the comforter?"

"Yeah, and he got into the lube."

"ALL of it!"

"Yeah?"

Cas leaned against the door jam and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sam. I left you in charge of our toddler for a handful of hours. How the hell did he manage to destroy the bedroom?"

Cas wanted to be mad, he really did, but Sam looked so dejected and upset with himself that Cas couldn't hold onto the feeling. Besides, if Cas blew up about the situation they'd just get into an argument, and honestly, what was the point?

Now Cas had a reason to go out and buy one of those expensive down comforters he's always wanted, Sam can get a better shaver that won't pinch, and the sharpie will come out with nail polish remover. Cas will send Sam to get some after they eat. 

"I'll get Dean, I brought food."

Cas turned to step out of the bathroom, but a soft sound from Sam caused him to turn back.

"What was that?"

Sam cleared his throat and focused his gaze on the floor by Castiel's feet. 

"I said he killed Esteban."

Cas' shoulder's dropped, "What?"

"Babe, I'm so sorry," Sam dropped the towel and tried to encompass Cas in his arms, but he was rejected as Cas took a step back and held his arms out to keep Sam at bay.

"He killed Esteban? How did he kill Esteban?"

"I think he attacked it with my shaver. There were bits missing from it and - "

"Can I see him?"

"I already threw him out."

Cas clenched his jaw. "I can't believe you let our son kill Esteban."

"Cassie, we can get a new Esteban."

"Sam -"

"We can go shopping for a new one?"

"I’m going to pretend that you didn't just suggest that we replace Esteban like he's just a piece of plastic -"

"Silicone."

Cas continued as if Sam hadn't interrupted him. 

"I'm going to get Dean, and _we're_ going to eat. You can join us when my bathroom no longer looks like a coloring book, and when my living room is chocolate free."

He marched out of the bedroom, pissed at his husband, and feeling the need for cuddles with his boy. 

Dean was still asleep when Cas walked in, but he needed to wake up if he was going to sleep at a decent time later that night.

"Well hello there my sweet little man," Cas cooed, hoisting their snoozing boy onto his chest. "Are you all sleepy?"

Dean responded with a yawn, and by pressing his face into his Papa's chest. 

"What has you so tired?" Cas asked as he plucked out a blanket to wrap Dean up in.

"Daddy?" Dean asked, likely wondering where his younger father had gotten off to.

"Daddy is in the dog house," he said, knowing Dean wouldn't know what he was saying, "he's got a lot of bum-kissing to do to your Papa."

Dean smiled lazily at his Papa, Cas was speaking in his silly baby-voice that he hardly ever used on Dean. 

"What are you smiling for?"

Dean started giggling and hiding his face away from his Papa, he was still half asleep and oh so very shy at the moment. 

"Is my baby smiling?" Cas tickled his fingers lightly over Dean's sides as he walked them over to the changing pad, so he could strap Dean into a new diaper. 

Part of Cas wanted to scold his son, and give him a lecture over destroying his daddies' things, but from the tear tracks that he'd seen on Dean's cheeks he assumed that Sam had already given their boy a talking to. There was no point in him harping on his son when he'd already received his punishment. 

"Does my baby want some chicken nuggets?"

Dean nodded sleepily and lifted his arms up, wanting to be carried. Their boy was more than capable of walking, and going down stairs. In fact, Dean often entertained himself by climbing up the stairs and sliding down, feet first on his tummy - with supervision of course - he always giggled at the feeling of the carpeted stairs on his belly. 

Cas would occasionally persuade Dean to go on his own, learn some independence, but today Cas was okay indulging the boy. 

So perhaps they were both guilty of coddling. 

Once downstairs Cas grabs up the food he had left in the family room and hefts everything to the kitchen. He's in no mood to see the evidence of Sam's negligence in the form of chocolate smeared about the room. 

Instead he sets them up in the kitchen. Dean is on his lap with shredded nuggets pulled close, with a handful of broken fries within easy reach. 

Cas is chewing his burger slowly, and watching a movie on his phone. He's got it tilted against the drink container, close enough to the edge for Dean to see the screen. 

It's a children's movie, Sleeping Beauty, and it's doing it's job by keeping Dean entertained - and Cas. 

Somehow they're able to stretch out dinner so that Dean is nibbling on his last cold nugget as the credits roll by, and Cas is sucking up the water of the melted ice cubes in his drink. 

Dean looks up at him then, face a mess of ketchup and crumbs. Cas can read his eyes, and at the moment they're saying, "New movie, Papa?"

"Yeah baby, we'll watch another movie." 

Cas wipes his mouth and sets Dean down - who immediately toddles off into the living room - as Sam comes sheepishly walking in.

"Hi."

"Hey."

Sam shifts from foot to foot as he watches Cas collect the garbage from the kitchen table.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"I got you a burger." Cas motions at the bag. "And a Dr. Pepper."

Cas is still mad, but he can feel the fires cooling. 

He turns to follow Dean into the family room, but Sam snags his waist. His tall, puppy-like husband presses a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and lets him go. 

Cas leaves him to his cold dinner. 

Dean is all curled up on the couch, waiting on his Papa to snuggle him. It's edging on seven-thirty, and their sweet boy is getting tired. He never did ask Sam how long Dean slept for, but from the drooping eyelids he's assuming it wasn't long. 

Cas boots up the TV and pulls up Netflix, he's not sure if Dean's seen The Rescuers yet, but he's willing to bet Dean will love the movie.

"C'mere baby," Cas says as he pulls his little one close. 

Sure enough, they're not halfway through and Cas has a sleeping baby on his chest. He was right though, up until he fell asleep Dean had loved the movie. Cas thinks it’s the sense of danger and adventure. It's just enough to peak Dean's curiosity. 

Cas is content to run his hand through Dean's hair and keep watching. He really does like this movie. 

He sees Sam come in out of the corner of his eye, and he sits on the opposite end of the couch. 

They don't say anything, but continue to stare at the TV in silence. Eventually Sam clears his throat. 

"How did today go?"

"Good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"I'm eligible for financial aid."

"That's good."

"I qualify for some scholarships."

Cas feels Sam's hand wrap around his free one. 

"I'm proud of you, baby."

Cas' lips curl up a bit as he continues to watch. 

"I really am sorry, Cassie."

"I know."

Cas tugs on Sam's hand, his husband is too far away. 

Sam gets the message and scoots closer to them on the couch, and wraps one of his long arms around both boys. 

"Were you serious about getting a new one?"

"I'm serious about everything that will make you happy."

Cas hums as he smiles and drops his head to Sam's shoulder.

"I'm thinking pink this time."


	8. Day in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A timeline of a day in the Wesson Household

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE!
> 
> Haha! I know most of you have all been probably very concerned about my whereabouts these last few *ahem* months. Well, I have a very good reason. And no, it isn't my new job, graduation, my brother and best friend buying new houses and moving, my brother-in-law being laid off, and starting a new job all in the span of like, three months. But it's all because I met this fantastic dork Valentine's day weekend and we started dating. He is literally the reason that I no longer have free time. You may blame him if you wish, I call him Ghostie and he's got cheekbones that would put Benedict Cumberbatch to shame.
> 
> He's actually pretty fantastic and I'm sure you all would get along with him spectacularly. To put him into perspective he spends his time watching anime and collecting Godzilla paraphernalia. I'm working on getting him hooked on supernatural, and so far it's going pretty great :)
> 
> But anyway, this is something I've been working on since before I met Ghostie (yes, that is my actual pet name for him) and I hope it helps prove to everyone that I'm not abandoning you :)
> 
> Oh, and also also, I do have a chapter for the main CB in the works, it's about halfway at this point, but I'm a little stuck with a certain scene, it may take a little while.
> 
> Anyways. Enjoy as always my lovelies!

6:00 Sam's alarm for the day goes off. Cas' eyes pop open and he pulls the covers closer to snuggle under his chin as his husband groans and stretches out to the end-table and smacks the machine off.   
Cas' eyes are shut once again as Sam sighs and rolls over to press a kiss to Cas' stubbled cheek before he starts bouncing his way off of the bed and padding his way to the bathroom.   
   
6:07 The shower is running and the toilet is free, so Cas stumbles out of the bed and meanders into the open bathroom to take care of business.   
   
6:10 The baby is rolling around on the monitor. He's not crying, but just cooing to himself as he wakes up.   
   
6:12 Cas is in the nursery scooping his boy out of his crib and kissing his cheeks to wake him up enough for a change.   
   
6:15 Cas brings Dean into the master so he can change into his running clothes. Sam would usually go running with him, but with the high profile case going on at the firm Sam finds it more relaxing to run after work.   
   
6:16-6:20 Cas scrambles to get dressed while repeatedly dragging Dean away from the edge of the bed.  
   
6:23 Sam is showered and shaved. Cas knows his husband is diligently working to find a suitable outfit for the day - his professional clothes occasionally say "attractive history professor" over "experienced lawyer" all thanks to Cas. He wasn't about to have an attractive younger husband who hid himself away in boxy, unappealing suits.   
   
6:27 Cas has Dean in the high chair surrounded by banana chunks and cheerios. He's working on fixing a breakfast for Sam - English muffin with egg, cheese, and turkey sausage - while encouraging Dean to eat.   
   
6:30 Cas has the egg frying and the sausage browning on the stove, but he's having a hard time concentrating on it as he's working to separate coffee filters with one hand while the other holds cheerios. It was the only way to keep Dean from grunting unhappily and now Cas is hearing the satisfying crunch of his pre-toddler feeding himself.   
   
6:32 Cas is pulling the burnt sausage from the stove top.  
   
6:33 Cas is bouncing a crying Dean  on his hip and opening the window above the sink to air out the kitchen.   
   
6:35 Dean is still crying - Cas had jumped and cursed when he smelled the burnt sausage - so Cas cheats and microwaves the sausage.   
   
6:40 With Dean still on his hip he's managed to make his husband a breakfast and lunch - though the lunch is just leftover pasta and salad from last night - and they're both sitting on the counter waiting for Sam to come and pick them up.   
   
He's got Dean back in the highchair and he's trying to get Dean to eat his breakfast instead of crush the banana slices in his fists like he seems to be bound and determined to do.   
   
6:45 Sam has come downstairs to grab his breakfast and go. He kisses both husband and child before asking about coffee. Cas has the coffee filters still on the counter, but they're dry and definitely not filled  with coffee grounds.   
   
Cas has a sheepish smile when he apologizes and tells Sam he'll have to get something on the way to the office.   
   
7:10 Cas is finally convinced that Dean has eaten enough for his breakfast to be finished, and considers his own breakfast the banana goop he licks off Dean's fingers - to produce a good amount of baby giggles - before he cleans them off.   
   
7:15 Dean is in a jacket and socks and Cas has him strapped into the jogging stroller for his half hour morning run.   
   
7:45 Cas arrives back home. Sweaty.  
   
7:50 The baby is undressed and in his play pen with some toys and a bottle of orange juice. Dean's playing happily enough, so Cas turns the TV on - weather channel - for some background noise.   
   
7:51 Cas walks into the kitchen to work on dishes.  
   
7:53 Cas rushes back to "rescue" clinging, crying baby.  
   
8:00-8:50 Cas plays on the floor with the baby. Much of this involves blowing raspberries on parts of Dean and playing personal monkey-playground to an active little boy.  
   
9:00-9:20 Cas and Dean catch the morning news and Cas engages his baby in conversation about current events. Dean's responses are pretty garbled and mostly just heartwarming coos, but Cas knows his baby is practicing talking, so he encourages him to keep going.   
   
9:25 Diaper change. Dean's poop is a weird color.   
   
9:36 Cas sits on the couch to watch cartoons with Dean while googling "Is my baby's poop normal?"  
   
9:42 Cas convinces himself he doesn't need to call the pediatrician.   
   
9:58 Dean face-plants on the rug and cries.   
   
10:03 Dean is giggling at his feet.   
   
10:06 Cas finally distracts Dean with a movie - Land Before Time - and makes a choice between shower, dishes, or laundry, before Deans wants his Papa.  
   
10:18 Clean laundry is ready to be folded, wet is in dryer, and dirty is in washer.   
   
10:20 Dean is crying for juice and snuggles.   
   
11:50 Why 11:50? How long did it take for juice and a hug?  
   
Cas retrieved Dean's juice and sat his boy atop his lap, but he found himself drawn to the movie, the warmth of Dean's little body, and the smell of his baby-fine hair.   
   
That's why 11:50 .   
   
12:00 It's a little late for the baby to be taking a nap, but Cas makes up a bottle and rocks him until he's out.   
   
12:15 Cas finishes the dishes from that morning - progress!  
   
12:30 He shifts the laundry and folds.   
   
1:00 Lunch. Cas makes PB&J, and ends up eating two since his breakfast was pretty scarce.   
   
1:15 Cas finds the chicken cutlets he wants to make for dinner and sets them out to thaw, and adds some rice and cheese to the slow cooker.   
   
1:28 Cas contemplates between reading and masturbating until Dean finishes his nap.  
   
1:30 Cas settles on masturbating while reading. He's reading a pretty steamy novel anyway, so the activities … go well in hand.   
   
2:01 Cas takes a quick rinse in the shower, and makes sure to scrub his hair since he hasn't cleaned himself after his morning run.   
   
2:07 Dean's awake and famished. His cries are quite clearly stating _"I haven't eaten in months! I'm an adorable monster with a cruel Papa who won't feed me!"_  
   
2:13 Cas feeds Dean a lunch of cheese and crackers. Having to grip the stacked lunch is good for Dean's fine motor functions, and Cas can't help but smile at his silly boy. He looks adorable with bits of cracker crumbs littering his lips and cheeks.   
   
2:37 Dean's back in the playpen, but this time he's active enough to keep himself entertained with his toys.   
   
2:45 Cas finally finishes folding the laundry and he brings to basket to the bottom of the stairs before Dean is crying for snuggles again.   
   
2:48 Cas and Dean spend time cuddling on the couch. Dean has fun pressing his hands to Cas' cheeks, and pushing his lips into funny shapes. Cas responds by making noises, growls and squeaks and hungry, munching, monster sounds. He makes Dean giggle repeatedly by pretending to eat Dean's hands and by fake gobbling Dean's neck.   
   
3:06 Cas carries Dean and laundry basket upstairs - wishing he had wider hips all the way - and slowly puts clean laundry away while watching Dean on the bed.   
   
3:22 Cas contemplates changing his clothes, but pulls on clean jeans and calls it good.   
   
3:24 Diaper change.   
   
3:28 The baby is crying. No idea why. Cas thinks it's because Dean's cute, and he thinks he should have a treat.  
   
3:34 Dean's in the playpen, dancing and playing on his piano.   
   
3:40 Cas is in the kitchen. He stirs the rice and adds some parsley. He's got enough time to turn the oven on and throw the chicken cutlets in before his master is demanding his presence.   
   
3:47 He's back on the couch with Dean, but they're on opposite ends of the cushions. Cas is sipping a glass of tea and Dean has a bottle of milk. They're kicking back on the couch like old friends. Cas has the channel turned to Nick Junior and he's having fun listening to Dean as he babbles happily along to the television.   
   
4:12 There's a new show on and Dean has crawled over the cushions and onto Cas' lap. He's now playing personal recliner to Dean who is happy enough to hold his arm up and feel along Cas' jaw while he sucks on his bottle.   
   
4:17 Dean's squirming up a storm. Another wet diaper. Cas considers feeding his baby fewer bottles so he can change less diapers throughout the day. But as he plays with Dean's feet and admires his boy's itty-bitty toes he can't keep himself from enjoying the moment with his boy.  
   
He has fun blowing on Dean's toes and making him giggle before snapping him back up. Cas rolls him onto his belly and pats his butt to send him crawling.   
   
4:23 Cas checks his phone and email for the first time all day. Sam had texted him at lunch. Nothing important, just griping about his long day at lunch.   
   
Cas responds with. "Dinner's ready. We miss you." And then remembers to turn the oven off.   
   
4:26 Cas gets Dean to play on his piano so he can take pictures and he sends one to Sam. It's a cute one where Dean is smiling and his hips are thrown to one side.   
   
4:32 Sam calls to say he's on his way home.   
   
4:58 Cas has Dean and the jogging stroller ready. He's sending the monster with Sam, partially for Daddy and baby time, and partially so Cas can run around the house for a few baby free minutes.   
   
5:06 Sam is pulling into the driveway as Cas is pulling the chicken out of the oven. It's had plenty of time to cool, so it's be perfect when it comes time to eat.   
   
5:08 Sam comes into the house and presses kisses to Cas' lips. Sam has done his trademark move when coming home from a long day, namely, he's forced Cas into a corner of the kitchen and won't stop kissing him until Sam feels like he's said a thorough hello.   
   
5:13 Sam's in the other room. Cas can hear Dean giggling and chatting at his Daddy as Sam greets his little boy. Cas smiles as he washes the dishes that he'd made since that morning.   
   
5:19 Cas can hear Sam walking around upstairs. His husband is getting dressed for his afternoon run, which is when Cas is going to finish most of his daily to do list.   
   
5:23 Sam is back in the kitchen, Dean on his hip, happily sucking on his soother and looking around as his younger, taller Daddy walks him around the room.   
   
5:25 Cas kisses both of his boys goodbye and once he knows that he's got the house free he's sure to run around and clean things up quick.   
   
5:29 Every last dish is washed, dried and put away.  
   
5:36 He's got all three bathrooms scrubbed down, even the drains at the bottom of the shower.   
   
5:38 He's removed Sam's dirty socks from on top of the washer and dryer.   
   
5:41 He's rinsed out Sam's coffee thermos - which he had left on the dryer. Like always.   
   
5:45 Cas runs a vacuum through the family room and downstairs office.  
   
5:48 He runs a mop through the kitchen and dining room.   
   
5:50 He takes a minute to dust the end tables and book shelves downstairs.   
   
5:53 He's throwing the garbage out in the cans outside in the garage just as Sam swings back into the driveway pushing the running stroller. Dean's smiling and waving his arms around when he sees his Papa. Cas likes to think Dean's like a puppy, when his parents come home he's excited to see them and he's full of energy.  
   
Cas meets Sam at the end of the driveway and scoops Dean up for hugs and kisses.   
   
6:02 Sam is upstairs taking a shower while Cas sits down to eat. It wasn't until he had sat down that he realized how hungry he is.   
   
Dean's in his high chair and Cas is feeding him bites from his plate. Dean's appetite is strong and he's holding his own fork. He's not using it, but Dean likes eating better when he thinks he's helping.   
   
6:14 Sam is with them at the table and is shoveling his food into his mouth. Cas is happy that he decided to make a few extra servings of chicken, cause Sam is going to eat them.   
   
6:22 Sam is holding Dean on his lap, letting Dean pull off chunks of chicken and handfuls of rice from his Daddy's plate.   
   
6:40 Sam is wiping Dean off while Cas grabs some drinks.   
   
6:52 Sam is drinking a beer in the family room while Cas dresses Dean in a fresh pair of pajamas. He looks precious in his fleece footie jammies.   
   
7:06 Cas is curled up with Sam, sipping wine while Dean slowly wanders about the rug. Sam has a game playing on TV, and neither of them are paying much attention.   
   
7:24 Sam is bringing Dean up to rock in the nursery while Cas makes Dean a bottle.   
   
7:46 Cas was watching on while his husband lays down their little bitty boy down in his crib.   
   
8:03 Sam is upstairs changing while Cas makes sure the dishes are in the sink - ready for tomorrow.   
   
8:26 Sam and Cas are in bed together. They have the TV going and the Big Bang theory is playing, but neither of them are watching it. Cas is playing solitaire on his phone and Sam is reading - having found the smutty novel that Cas had left on the bed from earlier in the day.   
   
8:43 Cas' phone is on the end table and he's wrapped around his husband, using his tummy as a pillow as he runs his hand across Sam's lower stomach.   
   
8:56 Cas drops subtle hint about wanting buttered popcorn.   
   
9:08 Sam finally accepts Cas' hints and goes downstairs to make some popcorn.  
   
9:15 The two start competing to see who can catch the most popcorn kernels in a row.  
   
9:17 Sam wins.  
   
9:22 Cas and Sam search the bed for stray popcorn kernels.  
   
9:47 Sam turns out his light and kisses Cas goodnight. Cas politely turns the TV on mute and puts on the subtitles.   
   
10:16 Cas calls it a night and turns the TV off.  
   
12:54 Hitched cries wake both daddies from their sleep. Cas slips away before Sam even makes the offer. After all, he isn't the one who has conference meetings all this week.  
   
1:03 Dean has a fresh diaper, and worms his way into extra cuddles with his Papa.  
   
1:18 Dean falls back asleep.  
   
1:23 Cas falls back asleep.  
   
   
   
6:00 Sam's alarm for the day goes off….


	9. This is Halloween!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to emphasize how behind I am in my writing. We're now after Thanksgiving, and this is the Halloween chapter that I wanted to post on, ya know, Halloween!
> 
> I even started this sucker back in September!
> 
> Anyways, it got to the point where I needed to get the lead out and finish. 
> 
> I do apologize for my long absences, but I've officially reached that point in my life where I have to schedule times to see close friends that I used to see five hours a day, five days a week. 
> 
> I even accidentally went three months without talking to my best friend for a while there. Whoops!
> 
> Point is, I'm not suffering any undue traumas, I just lead a very full, happy life, which is more than I could have asked for, honestly. 
> 
> I have not forgotten my lovelies though, and I'm hoping to find more time to write as the weather gets cooler and I feel less inclined to see people. 
> 
> As always, I appreciate all of your love, and I hope that my writing can bring a smile to your day :)

_This is Halloween, Halloween, Halloween!_

Cas smiles as he continues to wrap dough around the cheddar hot dogs they were having for dinner. 

Dean is two, and has recently decided that Halloween is the greatest holiday ever. Spooky critters, costumes, warm AhDah snuggles, and yummy treats combine all of the boy's favorite things.

"Ween! Papah!! Weeen!!" He hears his little monster calling for him.

"Is Papa missing the Halloween song?" Cas says back, just as he's putting the finished hot dog on the tray to pop in the oven. And just in time too. 

Quick, pajama clad feet dash across the kitchen and attack his knee.  

"Ha-weenn!! Papah!" 

"I know, I know. The world will surely fall apart if Papa doesn't sing the Halloween song with you for the eighth time today."

Dean says something surly and muffled from behind his soother, and Cas cracks a huge grin as he scoops him up.

His little monster is wearing a purple pajama onesie. Decked out with purple and blue fur, and green spots. Cas pulls up the hood that features teeth and eyes.

"You're Papa's favorite little monster," he says holding his boy close.

"Uhh!" Dean has no time for silly Papa nonsense. He grunts and points impatiently for the TV.

Cas sits down on the couch where Dean has the DVD paused. He's smart enough to remember a few buttons on the remote, so Cas rewinds it and snuggles Dean onto his lap. 

When he's at the beginning of the Halloween song Cas pulls an afgan over him and his boy and pushes play. 

Dean's rapt. He's fallen in love with the movie the Nightmare Before Christmas and loves to sing all of the songs with Papa. ALL of them.

Cas sings along absently, he knows all of the best spots to tickle Dean into hysterics, and to give him goosebumps. 

Their boy loves a good fright. 

But mostly Cas just enjoys the little boy Dean is becoming. Slowly moving his way through the early stages, and now growing to enjoy little boy things, like monsters and movies. 

This year Dean is old enough for Trick or Treating, which is wonderful. He and Sam had never been big on dressing up for Halloween, but having a child of their own had rejuvenated their enthusiasm for the experience. 

The past two years they've dressed Dean up, but he wasn't ready for a long trip around the neighborhood to collect candy. He'd merely helped his daddies answer the door, passing out suckers and chocolates to the older kids while stealing the hearts of the chaperones. 

Now, at the practically fully grown age of 2, (33 months for those who are counting) he's prepared to walk away with a neighborhood of goodies in his pocket.

And damnit if Dean isn't cute enough to do so.

This year Dean is going as Zero, the dog from Nightmare Before Christmas. Cas had tried talking the little boy into being Jack, but Dean had refused. For as much as he loved the movie there were still bits and pieces that gave him a good fright. He'd never been given nightmares from it, but Dean did experience that tingley "good" scared from the animation. 

Jack, and Oogie Boogie scared him just a little too much. 

So instead Daddy was dressing as Jack Skellington. Sam had found a good second hand suit, one that fit just a little too tight, and he threaded it with some good quality glittery silver yarn. 

It looked good on him, as he'd tried the suit on a week prior to get his husband's approval. Cas was a little possessive, and didn't like the idea that their neighbors would be spying Sam in the costume. 

But he had to let Sam go. 

Cas had volunteered to stay behind and pass out candy. They were kind of a popular house. Full sized candy bars, and hot apple cider or hot cocoa for the chaperones were something they always provided. 

Cas always set the bars out and let kids take their own and rush off while he handed out Styrofoam cups of warmth to the parents. 

He made sure that their neighbors liked them. And he wasn't above bribery.   

Dean chuckles and squirms on his lap, catching Cas' attention. 

He's giggling at the ghouls on screen. He loves the ones who sing and dance, but he's still a little frightened by a few of the characters. 

It just helps remind Cas that his baby is still a baby.

He cuddles him closer, as he knows the Lock, Shock, and Barrel song is about to start. It's the one about kidnapping Santa, and it freaks Dean out each time. Making him feel uneasy.

But Cas totally gets it. The song is uncomfortably weird. Talking about all of the things they're going to do to "Santy" once they get their hands on him. Of course it doesn't help that throughout the song they're tormenting that weird bug....thing. 

Cas is an adult and he doesn't even like the song. 

He's still busy stealing warm cuddles from his boy when the timer on the oven goes off. Cas is about to slip out from under Dean when he hears a quick, "I've got it!" from the kitchen.

Cas didn't even hear Sam come home. 

Not fifteen minutes later and Sam is walking into the living room, supporting three plates in one hand - one talent that Cas will never attain - each of them with crescent wrapped hot dogs and some of the cinnamon apple slices Cas had waiting.

"Hello handsome," Cas says, tilting his head up for a kiss.

Sam is fresh from work, tie still on tight and sleeves down.

He looks ready to storm into a board room, and yet he's toting around Toy Story plates with hot dogs.

Sam passes off a plate to Cas while spying the TV, "Nightmare Before Christmas? I see we're mixing things up."

Cas hums as he grabs a bite of apple before balancing his plate on the arm of the couch. 

Sam puts his and Dean's plates on the coffee table before swooping Dean off of the couch and quickly tossing him into the air and catching him.

"Daaaddy!!"

Dean squeals and wiggles in his younger father's arms. 

How Dean could miss Sam walking in is beyond Cas.

"Whatcha watching?" Sam asks as he folds himself into the space between the couch and coffee table. Pulling over their plates as he goes.

"Jack an-and Sally."

"Oh, we watched them yesterday. How about we eat dinner." Sam tries to cajole.

Dean hums, but ignores his Daddy.

"Wow!!" Sam is plucks up a hot dog and turns a big 'O' face to Cas. "Mummy dogs?"

Cas smiles as he eats another apple slice. "Yep, found the inspiration online, and as you know, we're all about monsters this month," he says tilting his head towards Dean.

Sam shrugs and turns back around to their plates.

"Dean, did you see your hot dog? It's a scary monster!" Sam says the last word all wiggley, trying to make Dean's dinner more interesting than the movie.

"Mon'ser?"

"Yeah, see here monkey?"

Sam hands Dean his own hot dog. 

Cas had split the casing on either side to make "arms and legs" and wrapped crescent roll dough around them like cloth. They were adorable little mummified hot dogs, and delicious to boot. Especially since Cas used a case of cheddar dogs.

Dean holds his mummified food up and touches the dough. 

“You want to eat Mr. Mummy?” Cas asks as he starts to eat his own.

“Noooo!” 

Dean's sudden scream startles both Sam and Cas. They jump before turning their heads to him.

“Hey, hey, what's up baby?” Sam says as his big hands scoop Dean to his chest.

Dean's outright howling, and Cas doesn't miss how his little hands cradle his hot dog.

“I doh-don' wanna eat mummy!” their little boy sobs, his pacifier falling out. Sam catches it and tosses it on the table. Dean's got his dinner held close to his chest and Cas kind of has to bite his lip to keep from chuckling.

Of course Dean has grown attached to his food.

Sam doesn't see it as funny though, as he presses one palm to Dean's head and cradles it as he rocks their boy.

“I know, I know sweet boy,” Sam coos. “You don't have to eat Mr. Mummy.”

Dean's tears sputter into a few hiccups, but when he finally understands that his daddies aren't going to make him eat his new friend he reaches up to wipe at his eyes. 

“Promise?”

“I promise, in fact,” Sam reaches forward and disassembles his own hot dog to look like just plain food before handing Dean a small piece, “here, we can share this one, and Mr. Mummy can watch the movie with you, okay?”

Dean sniffs and nods his head. “Okay.”

Sam kisses the top of their boy's head as Dean calms down and eats from Sam's plate.

Little boy crises averted they eat their dinner and finish the movie. Sam sings parts of the songs with him and Dean, as Sam has been spared the torment of watching the movie 10 times a day for the last two weeks. 

Dean holds his mummified hot dog throughout the whole movie, but when he leaves it abandoned on his plate to get a bath with Papa, Sam scarfs it up before doing dishes. When Dean asks where his new toy went Sam says, “huh, that's curious. I wonder if he got up and left when I wasn't looking.”

That, of course, makes Dean's eyes go wide, and Cas smiles as he watches his little boy toddling about the family room, looking under furniture saying, “Mis'ser Mummy? Where'd you go?”

**

“Ick.”

Sam looks up and catches Cas' eye. They both crack a smile at their boy and continue with their tasks. 

They're working on carving pumpkins. 

Well, at least Sam and Cas were. 

The carving is all done, but they're just putting the finishing touches on their pumpkin real quick before they take them outside to light up.

The kitchen table is covered in newspapers and they're collecting the pumpkin innards so that Sam can make his massive bowl of cinnamon pumpkin seeds. Cas hates cinnamon pumpkin seeds, which works for Sam, because it means that he can sit and chow down on them without sharing. 

Dean of course, is being less than helpful. 

He's standing on a chair, dipping his hand into the ice cream bucket full of pumpkin guts and purposefully freaking himself out. 

He'll dip his hand in, shove his arm in up to the elbow, and pull it out, shrieking and wiggling, stomping his feet and giggling until he does it again. 

Sam glanced over to Dean as he ran the scraper around the insides of his pumpkin to clean it up. 

Dean has a small handful of pumpkin guts that he's clenching his fist around, letting the orange goop seep through his fingers. 

It's gross enough to keep their boy entertained while his daddies finish up. 

They're carving two jack-o-lantern's for the front porch, but Cas had Dean paint a pumpkin. Cause there was no way in hell they were going to try having their 2 year old carve something. 

Cas has Dean dressed in one of his old t-shirts, he has the hem pulled back and tied into a knot so Dean doesn't trip, otherwise he'd trip over the long shirt. Dean's pumpkin in finished, and he got paint hardly anywhere, other than the pumpkin that is. That's a mess of colors that his daddies have complimented highly.

Sam starts to crack a smile at his boy, and tries to hide it by biting his teeth. 

He reaches into the 'guts' bucket and grabs a small, stringy bit of pumpkin and gently flicks it onto Dean.

It smacks into Dean's face with a wet _thwack_ , and Dean jerks in response. 

Sam laughs as Cas turns his head with a questioning look, and Dean goes cross-eyed to spy the goop clinging to his nose and eyebrows. He's not sure Dean entirely knows what it is, but he starts smiling and laughing while wiping the goop off.

“Dahahddy!”

Cas chuckles and puts his scraper down. “Aren't you going to get him back, baby?”

Dean looks up at his Papa and then back down to their guts bowl. He looks unsure about throwing something at his Daddy and making a mess, and Sam's a little proud of his respectful little boy.

“C'mon baby, you can get your Daddy back. Papa and Daddy won't be mad.”

Dean reaches into the guts bucket and uses his small fingers to pluck up a small strand of pumpkin. He holds it up and looks at it before staring at his Papa. 

“Go on,” Cas says.

Sam bites his lip in anticipation. His little boy is so sweet.

He watches as Dean tries to reach out to Sam's arm, but can't quite make it. So Sam puts down his tools and scoops Dean up, popping him onto his hip. Dean smiles up at him before shoving his small palm towards Sam's face. 

The squishy orange goop catches to corner of Sam's mouth, and Dean's palm forces a small amount into his mouth. 

Sam twists his face away, sputtering out an elegant “Ffffpppppttttt,” sound, as if that would get rid of the bitter taste. 

Dean immediately starts squealing in delight, laughing and clapping his hands as Sam runs the back of his hand across his mouth. Sam smacks his lips together and looks down at Dean, “was that funny?”

His boy giggles and nods his head. 

Sam glances up at Cas, who is chuckling behind his hand.

“And what are you laughing at?” 

Cas shakes his head, “oh, nothing.”

“Uh huh,” Sam bounces Dean on his hip. “Think we should get Papa?”

“Yeah!” 

Dean's shrieking scream startles Sam, but the overwhelming enthusiasm has him laughing all the same. Sam pulls the bucket closer and dips down so that he and Dean can grab a handful. Then, without preamble they lob their handfuls at Cas, who isn't able to dodge either of the projectiles. 

Sam's smacks right against Cas' temple, and Dean's makes a great splat against the breast of Cas' shirt.

After Cas removes the goop that is left behind he lunges for the bowl and take two big handfuls, tossing them back at his boys. 

From there it dissolves. 

Sam feels wet globs pelting against him, while Dean shrieks and wiggles on his hip. 

He's at a disadvantage against Cas, who has a free hand in comparison to Sam, so even though it's a bit of a cowardly move, Sam turns his body to use Dean as a shield against his husband's attacks. 

Which of course means that Dean takes the brunt of Cas' attacks. Sam knows that their boy is going to need a good hosing off when he sees some pumpkin juice running down Dean's face. 

Soon enough the bucket of ammo is gone, and the three of them are calming down from their fit of laughter. 

Sam is the first to straighten, he pushes his hair – along with some pumpkin – out of his face and looks over at his husband who is wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. 

“That was fun.”

“It was, but you thoroughly destroyed my dining room.”

Sam shrugged, “but Dean had fun, right baby?”

Dean held his arm out to his Daddy, “Ick, Dahddy, ick.”

“You're all messy, aren't you,” Sam says, holding his boy away from him, over the table. 

“Noh.”

Sam and Cas chuckle over their boy, and Sam feels Cas' fingers wrap around Dean's torso and pull him away. 

“I'll give our little monster a bath, and I think that mean's that Daddy gets to clean the dining room, huh?”

“Aww, but Cassie –.”

“Don't you Cassie me,” his husband snarks, “I appreciate the laugh,” Cas says putting Dean on his hip, “but you have completely destroyed my dinning room.”

“Me!? You threw stuff back!”

“I finished it,” Cas smirks as he peels some pumpkin off of Dean's shirt and drops it on the table. “And since you were so quick to start a pumpkin fight, you can clean up your mess. Dean and I will enjoy a nice bath and then we're going to watch a movie, huh?”

Dean nodded, “Ween?”

“Ween? You want to watch Nightmare Before Christmas?” 

“Yeah!”

Cas chuckled, “of course you do,” Cas started walking out of the dining room, “do you think Papa can convince you to watch a different movie?”

“No!”

Sam laughs to himself. Getting Dean to watch a different movie would be a futile endeavor. 

And then he looks around the dining room. The pumpkin guts somehow managed to miss the table completely, which was the only covered surface in the whole damn room. Instead the orange mess covered Cas' beautifully upholstered chairs, their chandelier, and of course all over their floors. 

“Shit.”

He was going to be cleaning most of the night.

**

Cas left a naked Dean to play with his bath toys on the bathroom floor while he ran the water in the tub. While Dean was safely distracted behind him, Cas rinsed his hair in the sink, scooping the large chunks of pumpkin and tossing them into the garbage to keep from clogging the drain.

He used the mirror to make sure his hair was clean before taking off his shirt. 

Dean and Sam had assaulted him something fierce. 

He turned his shirt inside out and wrapped Dean's clothes in it to keep the pumpkin from dirtying anything else up. Cas walked to the top of the stairs and tossed the bundle to the floor at the bottom, Sam can add the clothes to the laundry with his own once he's done cleaning the dining room. 

“Alright baby boy, who's ready for a bath?”

Small feet hit the floor as Dean sprinted for Cas' legs, as soon as he smacked into him Cas grabbed his boy up. He was giggling and wiggling around, and Cas laughed at his boy as he walked them over to the tub. The water was warm enough at that point, so Cas put Dean in and dumped in his toys.

“You think we can get you clean before Daddy gets Papa's dining room clean?”

“Yeah!” Dean answered him with enthusiasm, but he's distracted by his toys so Cas knows Dean is paying less than zero attention to his Papa.

“C'mon my cherry pie, let's wash up. You're my little pumpkin boy,” Cas chuckles, “you're my little pumpkin pie today!”

Cas is content to let Dean spend most of his time in the tub playing with his toys. The pumpkin doesn't need much coaxing to come off of Dean's skin, it's dried at this point and flakes off mostly anyways. He really just sits on the floor, chin leaning on his fist and giggling with his son while scooping out stray pumpkin from the water and tossing it into the trash can. 

Soon enough though when Cas dips his fingers into the water and it's much cooler than it started. 

“Alright, let's bring some bubbles into this party.”

Dean's all played out at this point, which makes it easier to scrub his monster down. 

Cas has Dean out of the tub, wrapped up all clean and warm in a towel on the big bed as he grabs a fresh diaper. 

He's quiet, Dean that is. And Cas can't help but share a soft smile with his docile boy. 

He's grown up so much in so many ways. Cas can't believe that they're already on another holiday together. 

Cas is quietly stuck in his memories, thinking of his sweet, surly little boy, when Dean grabs his attention.

“Ah?”

“Yes my love?”

“Ween now?”

“Of course, Papa has it on Amazon,” _and thank God for instant streaming_ , Cas thinks to himself. He doesn't know how parents survived without Netflix. Not that they're completely dependent on electronics to “babysit” Dean. It's just a great distraction tool. 

Car trips, grocery trips, errands, Sam's fancy dinner events.... basically any time that having a polite, well-behaved child is a good thing, Sam and Cas whip out the iPad. People don't need to know that when he's not distracted their cute little angel turns into a freckled monster. 

He pulls up the movie on screen and lifts Dean up to toss him into the bundle of pillows they have at the head of their bed. 

Dean of course squeals his head off in delight, which is what he was going for, but their little boy is tired, and is quick to cuddle up to a round, tube like pillow they have for decoration.

Cas watches as Dean's attention is captured by the Halloween song before he slips into the bathroom to rinse himself off.

He leaves the door wide open as he steps out of his clothes, and leaves his pants and underwear mushroomed on the floor. He's never been a shy person before, but parenthood has really removed his sense of modesty. 

Cas obviously doesn't mind Sam spying on him naked, but he doesn't really mind Dean seeing him either. His little boy has bathed with his daddies numerous times, and he's seen his daddies pee plenty.

Sam found a parenting book that encouraged parents to be respectfully open with things like that, it supposedly helped babies create a sense of self image. It was beneficial for them later in life, when their sense of self-esteem is most unstable. That, and it was supposed to help little boys learn how to use the big boy potty when it was time for potty-training. 

As a testament to just how comfortable Cas is with his nudity, when Dean cries out for him he doesn't even pause to grab a towel.

He pops into the bedroom to see Dean right where he left him, but with his arm thrown out to the bathroom. His eyes never leave the screen as his Papa approaches. 

“Yes baby?” 

Dean grunts and claps the palm of his hand to his lips. It's his newly developed nonverbal que for _“I need my binky, Papa”_. 

Cas rolls his eyes and grabs the pacifier that is literally lying on the pillow, merely an inch from his mouth, and pops it between Dean's lips. 

“Ta Papa.”

He can't find it in himself to be mad. He knows someday he'll desperately miss his dependent little boy. The one who actively seeks out snuggles and cuddles and is always looking for help from his daddies.

Cas runs his hand through Dean's hair and steps back into the bathroom. 

There isn't much pumpkin left on him at this point. Most of what ended up on him was on his clothes, and the bits that were caked to his skin had flaked off as he walked about. He'll probably end up vacuuming the remains out of the carpet while Sam is at work tomorrow.

He starts up the shower to rinse off anyways. There's still a fair bit of goop in his hair that he needs to clean out. 

Since he's the one keeping an eye on the monster he doesn't close the curtain all the way. If Dean makes a ruckus or cries out for him Cas wants to be able to hear it with minimal interference. 

He adds some shampoo to his hand after he's already rinsed out the first batch of suds – he doesn't want to find crusty pumpkin in their bed – when the shower curtain shifts and makes way for his husband.

“Hey baby.” Sam ducks under his arm and pecks him, real sweet.

“Did you clean my dining room?”

“As well as you did cleaning the monster.”

Sam reaches around him and snags his own favored brand of shampoo. 

Cas glances over his shoulder to see Sam palming _little Sam_ as he flips the cap. 

He rolls his eyes. 

The two shower in sync, and other than a little light _petting_ they don't get up to much. Not when they know Dean is in the next room.

Respectful nudity is one thing, but blatantly fooling around with Dean purposefully within hearing distance is not a line the pair wants to cross. 

After they dry off Cas is sure to toss his damp towel as Sam, who promptly catches it out of the air and wraps it around his wet head of hair.

“Did you put the pumpkins out?”

“Mhm.”

“Good. Put on some sweats, we'll bring Dean out to light em.”

Cas pulls on an old pair of Sam's sweats from college and dons a ratty t-shirt while watching the screen along with his boy. 

Dean's only about 20 minutes into the movie, which means they can bring him down and light the pumpkins and resume the movie with enough time to soothe their babe to sleep.

Cas hits pause and Dean whines. 

“Pa-Papa, I's watching that.”

“We'll come back, I promise. But Daddy has something even better.”

“Daddy?” his little boy asks while holding out his arms. 

Cas scoops him up and notices that it takes a lot of effort for Dean to keep his head up. They're going to have a snoozing baby in not to long. 

“Mhm, let's go downstairs and find a blanket.”

Cas meanders down the stairs and wraps (nearly swaddles) his sleepy babe in a blanket while Sam goes outside with the lighter. Cas and Dean meet him out there while Sam is working on lighting Cas' pumpkin. Dean's is sitting in the middle, surrounded by a ring made of those glow stick bracelets. You can see the colors Dean painted pretty well. 

“See baby?”

Dean pries his head off of his Papa's shoulder to look, and immediately throws out a little finger at his pumpkin. 

“Uh!”

“Yep, that one's yours.”

“And here's Papa's,” Sam says righting Cas' pumpkin and replacing the top. 

Cas kept it simple, and did a stencil carving of Oogie Boogie. 

“Who's that?” Sam asks before grabbing his own pumpkin.

“Oo'ie!” Dean screams around his pacifier. 

“That's right!”

Cas chuckles and sways his baby boy as they wait for Sam to light the tea candle in his own pumpkin. 

He knows Dean is sleepy when he feels his little head drop down onto his chest. 

He cards his fingers through Dean's hair and presses a kiss to his crown.

His baby is growing up too fast.

“And here's Daddy's.”

Cas is sure to coo to gain Dean's interest. 

Sam, who is no artist by any means, had just carved the two eye triangles and toothy smile that is reminiscent of classic jack-o-lantern's. 

“That looks nice, baby.” 

Sam stands and looks proud of himself. 

“Thanks!”

He comes over and takes Dean from Cas. “What do you think, monkey?”

Dean curls up into Sam's broad chest and whines a bit. He's tired. 

“Ween, now, A-Ahddy?”

“You want your movie? But we're looking at pumpkins!” Sam tries to sound upset, but it's lost on their son. 

“I think that pumpkin fight wore him out,” Cas comments.

“Did not!” 

That's Dean.

“I'm sorry baby, you're still ready to party, aren't you?”

“Yeah.”

They chuckle as Sam sweeps a hand through his hair and nuzzles into him. 

“Does baby want to cuddle and watch 'Ween'?”

Dean nods quietly. 

“Okay.”

Sam grabs Cas' hand and takes them inside. 

Cas smiles as he watches his husband crawl into their bed with their little boy and turn the movie back on. 

Dean isn't going to make another 10 minutes of the movie, but now all Cas wants to do is watch this movie 100 times over. 

He doens't know if Dean is going to watch to curl up and watch 'Ween' with his daddies ever again. 

What if this is their last time?

“Hey.”

Cas rouses from his thoughts and looks to Sam.

“Huh?”

“Thinking pretty loud over there.”

Sam's stuck on the bed, with a snoozing toddler on his chest.

“He's getting to be so big.”

“Mhm.”

“There are so many moments that have already passed.”

Sam holds up a free hand, and encourages Cas closer. 

“And yet there are a million more to have.”

That makes him smile. 

“I guess that's true.”

Cas crawls in on his side of the bed and puts his head on Sam's shoulder.

“I think I'm going to miss watching this movie with him,” Cas confesses.

Sam nods, and Cas knows that without further explanation Sam understands what he's saying.

“Don't worry,” Sam whispers looking down at where Dean sleeps, “he'll want to watch it at Christmas just as much.”

He laughs, “never thought of that.”

“Does that make you feel better?”

Cas smiles, “much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all typos are credited to weak coffee ;)


	10. Saturday Morning Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been reading the Chicago Verse by Compo67, and I just love the quick, slice of life stories. I read almost 100 of them this weekend while working on homework for my Master's program. 
> 
> But I'm inspired to try my hand at the idea. Here's my first.

Their room is swathed in warm, buttery light. It pools across the floor of their bedroom, warming small patches that they could feel with their toes, should they be inclined to get up and walk about. 

A soft, sleepy breath escapes the cluster of limbs and sheets on the bed. 

Saturday morning has come far too early. 

Though it’s early morning, the heat from outside is already trying to crawl into the house. The low, comforting hum of the a/c can be heard, keeping the house alive, and most importantly, cool. 

A lazy arm curls itself around a sleep pliant torso, and pulls. 

They don’t have anywhere to be today. Their most pressing matters are each other, and making it downtown in time to get tacos from the popular food truck that frequents the park over the summer. 

So their morning can stay lazy and slow. 

Sam feels warm breath and stubble brushing across his bare shoulder. He’s been sleeping in just his boxers these last few weeks, as the heat of a Northern Illinois summer bogs them down. He’d wake up stuck to the sheets, sticky with dried sweat, if he had on any more layers. 

The soft, worn cotton of his husband’s sleep shirt clings to his back, so he pulls away slightly, to give himself some space.

Their room settles down, and Sam balances on the precipice of sleep once again.

He’s saved from falling into unconscious by a small coo. Quiet, but curious at the foot of their bed. 

He lifts his head and cracks an eye against the invading sun, and spies the golden crown of a head, barely visible over the mound of covers. Lazily, his hand is lifted and he curls his fingers in welcome. 

Now that he knows they’re being visited, he can hear the soft crinkles of movement. Diaper shifting, steps padding. 

A soft clink announces a bowl hitting Sam’s nightstand. He opens his arms, and clasps his hands around two smaller ones, helping the small body onto the bed. 

As Dean crawls over Sam’s shoulder, he feels the sharp corner of their TV remote press into his skin.

The inhabitants of the bed move about before settling once again. 

Dean clicks on the TV, Sam can hear the screen waking up, feel the static of the electricity. The sound softens, and switch stations. 

Sam pushes his face deeper into his pillow, conscious of the little elbow, using his back as an armrest. The sound of the TV is accompanied by a gentle clack, and _slurp_ as Dean eats his morning cereal. 

Sam smiles. 

The morning has come too early, once again, but the promise of a new day is always welcome.


End file.
